Star Wars: A Novella
by Melda8675309
Summary: Events take place ten years after the conclusion of the Clone Wars. Read more and Enjoy!


Hello reader! If you are about to read this than you are in for a real Star Wars treat! I would like to point out a few things before you start.

I really wanted to write in such a way that does not disrupt Star Wars cannon, and also greatly supports it. I have never liked when these books get so weird that it doesn't even feel like Star Wars anymore.

This was my first attempt at writing fiction, and as far as following the rules is concerned, this has been a practice book for me to get better.

In my opinion Star Wars books in general have been quite heavy on the narrative as compared to other fiction, and mine is no exception. If I did not quite pull it off as well as I think that I have, please let me know. I am open to suggestions and criticism. Also, if I have done something right, let me know that as well so I can do more of it!

That is pretty much it! Please enjoy

-David M

**STAR WARS: ~Title~ **

**Prologue**

_Telos, an Imperial controlled planet, enjoys moderate wealth and benefits from the security of the Empire. Ten years since the conclusion of the Clone Wars and the formation of the Galactic Empire, inhabitants of well to do planets such as Corellia, Alderaan, Telos, and others like them are able to maintain a lifestyle similar to that during Republic rule as long as they pay their taxes and display a degree of patriotism towards the Empire. Telos sprawls with industry, tourism, universities, and the arts, and boasts a human population of over seventy percent. The average Imperial citizen on Telos, whether lucky enough to have been born a human, or belonging to a species similar enough or able to compensate by doing positive work which promotes the Imperial agenda, is such an asset to the Empire on wealthy planets, that they are given a wide berth of freedom in their lifestyle choices, and live their lives very much unaware of the degree of control that the Empire actually has. _

_In the NAME household, siblings Sylvia and Daron have always displayed a higher manner of being gifted than their peers, and without ever suspecting what that means, have been able to progress through their studies at an advanced rate._

**Ch**

"Fencing! I understand that I am registering for my classes weeks past the deadline but come on, Fencing!? You are punishing me for something I did to you, I am certain of it," Sylvia voiced in protest.

Professor Ainslee, a man in his mid forties whose stress marked face looked two decades older than his runner's physique, ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair, "I am doing my absolute best to get you registered for the classes that make the most practical sense for you, as it happens we are lucky that I was able to pull strings to get you and Daron accepted to the Academy on such short notice."

"But professor, if I am unable to get the classes that I want, why would you put me in a class that I have absolutely no interest in whatsoever? It's money isn't it, they give you money for like advertising or something!" Sylvia concluded with a wry grin.

Professor Ainslee sat straight in his chair. "_Sigh_, no my dear, I am not being… well, of course I receive my tenured pay, he said as he re -straightened his wispy greying hair which was never messed up in the first place, but I assure you that I get no extra compensation for putting a student in any course, now can we please take this seriously? "

"I know, I'm sorry that I'm awful sometimes, I just really had my heart set on taking a dance class as my physical fitness requirement. I have always been involved in dance and it just doesn't seem fair that graduating early from the Junior Academy ought to be rewarded with having my favorite activity taken from me. I don't see why we're required to take a physical fitness requirement anyway, have you seen some of the students at this place, they're quite round and easily outclassed in fitness by certain unnamed professors that are twice their age," she said as they shared a laugh.

"Your brother said something quite similar to that when all that we were able to get him was the principles of Kel Dor meditation. Well, that and the fencing of course, but he chose the one that as he put it, "will result in far less bruising and bleeding on my part." Professor Ainslee put on a more serious face for a moment, "I really do want you to know that I am not just bullying you and your brother into classes that you do not want, what I am giving you really are the last options that we have available."

Sylvia cracked a smile, "okay, that cheers me up a little bit, I suppose he got the last seat, er, floor mat in that class? "

" Yes, and can I stress just how lucky you are to get the class that you did. The professor who will be teaching it has just come to the University, late much as you and your brother, and we were very lucky to get him. He was a galactic competitor in his day, trained in the Echani Arts who has won several honors, and has beaten some of the best known fencers of his day. I don't expect that you've heard of Danton Lyssa? "

Sylvia put on the usual face that she would whenever boys would talk about sports.

Ainslee continued with enthusiasm, oblivious to her apparent disinterest "he decided only recently to settle down on Telos so that he can retire from coaching some of the best competitors in the galaxy, and spend more time with his family. Every Academy on this moderately significant rock immediately attempted to recruit him the moment he made the announcement publicly, and to be honest with you, the only reason that he agreed to instruct here part time is that he lives only minutes away from the academy, and has openly stated that he wants to keep active to stave off old age, as he so eloquently puts it. The class that I've gotten you into opened this morning and has already been filled in the time you've been in my office!"

"Yawn, I breezed out for a moment, did you say something about sports, professor?" Sylvia smirked, "I'm just teasing Sir, I can tell that you are very excited for me, and I do appreciate all the hard work and favors you've pulled in for my father just to get me and Daron into this school this semester."

"It wasn't just for your father," Professor Ainslee replied, "you and your brother have worked very hard to get here and I am very proud of you both."

"Chang of subject, do I have any classes together with my brother?"

"Yes actually, you do. You two are in the same Social Perspectives class," he replied.

_Bleh_, Sylvia winced, "that doesn't sound fun, but I suppose I'll have to endure a few terribly boring classes just like everybody else before I get to customize the schedule that I want. Which does include being entirely comprised of the arts and dance. With maybe a required philosophy and science here and there of course," she said with a wink to her mentor.

"Yes, of course my dear," he answered without really hearing her. "Well, Sylvia, it looks like everything is entered into the school's network, here is the finalized schedule that you will have for the next couple of months. You are not in any that I am teaching, but feel free to drop by my office at any time if you need anything. Classes start in three days, be sure that you get everything you need before that time, and don't hesitate to ask, for anything, I mean that."

"I will, and thank you professor," she said as she grabbed her gym bag and left.

**Ch**

"Daron, you are the only guy I know who actually tries on pants to see if they fit! The boots I understand, but come on now…pants!" exclaimed Daron's tall and lanky, copper haired best friend Redmond, who had had been teasing him while he shopped.

The two of them had spent most of the morning in the downtown shopping district, which is where just about anything and everything that can be purchased legally can be found within a ten city block radius for a reasonably marked up price. They ignored the merchant droids and other shoppers that buzzed around them as they continued their conversation.

Daron, who has always been quite likeable, and was no stranger to boys talking the way that boys do, quickly responded "will everyone who actually has a girlfriend please raise their hand," as he slowly raised his hand and watched Redmond scowl.

"Ha ha," Redmond chided, "keep wearing pants like that and we'll wonder just who the girl is in the relationship!"

"That would be me," a small voice from behind Redmond stated, and as he turned he knew a small but strong girl with short blonde hair and a keen intellect was about to slug him in the arm.

He was right.

"Hello Clemencia," he said while rubbing his arm which he could never admit actually hurt.

As Clemencia and Daron embraced, she took a look at the pants in question. "Oh hunny, it's a really good thing that I got here when I did, she chortled.

"I kind of like them," Daron exclaimed as he turned and modeled them.

"And I kind of like you, which is why I can't let you be seen wearing those fashion disasters," she replied.

Daron could have easily stopped his best friend's audible laughter at that moment, but one glare from Clemencia at the baggy jumpsuit that Redmond was wearing did the job.

"Talk about the blind leading the blind," she sighed. "Look, you two are great at a lot of things and I think that is very impressive. This is not one of them. Why don't you let me find a few things for the both of you to try on."

"But…" Redmond began.

"I know what girls like," she chided him as she threw a jacket in his direction while holding shoes that compliment.

Daron could not help but laugh. In the two years that he had been "on again –off again" dating Clemencia, these two had always gotten along quite well and their back and forth witty banter had always made him smile. It was a little bit sad to him that there would be fewer of these days now that he will be going to the University as a result of graduating early and leaving them behind, but at least he won't be too far away will still have days off and holidays to visit.

"Today is going to be a good day spending time with these two," Daron thought as he took the clothes that his girlfriend handed him. As she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ushered him off to the fitting rooms, he thought inwardly that everything will be just fine.

It certainly was, and it was no surprise that they had later found Sylvia and her friends doing pretty much the same thing downtown, albeit a bit more efficiently since she was with a group of five girls that were focused on a mission of purchasing fashionable items. These were some of Sylvia's long time friends from her dance events, and never before had he seen that particular group of girls more determined than they were at finding cute outfits to compliment their dancer physiques.

As large social groups predictably hold together for only a brief while, this one was no exceptions. Redmond had managed to gain the attention of one of Sylvia's friends, and the two had split off to look at sporting goods together as he bragged about his sporting prowess. As they left the group, he could be seen flexing his arm muscles and explaining how well they can be so well hidden on his lanky frame while. She looked impressed, so the group gave it not another moment's thought.

Satisfied with their day downtown, Daron and Clemencia had finally managed to slip away to one of their favorite cafes for some alone time, while Sylvia and the rest headed to the holo arcade.

**Ch**

The night before the start of the semester, Sylvia and Daron sat at the dinner table with their parents. Their father, a grey skinned Zabrak named Gilenn had always insisted on the tradition of family dinners for as long as Sylvia and Daron could recall. Although their luxurious and plus sized home in a high security private community had many large banquet rooms, and staff fully capable of entertaining guests, Gilenn, and their human mother Yulsie have always insisted on meeting most evenings in one of their smaller rooms that have a more homely feel. Whenever their busy schedules would allow, they would take turns preparing meals rather than using their in-house staff members to cook.

Daron could remember some of the earliest of these meals as a child. His father Gilenn, who has always been regarded as some sort of financial genius for reasons that he really hadn't even begun to understand until taking advanced math courses, would almost always find the time to meet himself, Sylvia, and his mother Yulsie here to spend time with them, which was a rarity amongst those in such higher financial statuses as themselves on Telos. Life had been especially hard for his mother who is a three times published biochemical engineering manuscript writer, and his Iridonian father before they made their fortune, and they were sure not to let Sylvia and he develop such bad qualities that many of their privileged peers possessed, rather they would use their resources to be sure their children were challenged as frequently as they themselves had been growing up, even if the life of luxury now provided an ever persistent safety net.

Daron was rather quiet at dinner that night however, and although he would never admit it he was as nervous about beginning study at the University tomorrow as he was excited to enter in to such a competitive environment. His sister however, had no trouble telling everybody how nervous she was about every aspect of going to such a large school a full year younger than most attendees begin. She kept going on about how she did not want to go to her gym class, or really any other for that matter as she feels that it is unfair that she is not enrolled in dance, which she voiced ought to be her major study. Her parents would be patient and let her vent for the moment, as everyone at the table understood that Daron and she would indeed attend the University and do quite well. Sometimes his sister just needs to complain he thought to himself, and one thing he learned about living with females in the house is that very rarely do they want you to actually do something about what is bothering them, they just want you to listen. Often males on this planet were well into adulthood before figuring out that life lesson.

Daron was being more reflective that usual tonight, and although he looked like he was listening to the conversation around him, he had years of experience in responding to both verbal and nonverbal cues while being entirely inside his thoughts. His father had just made a mildly humorous remark that he laughed at more as a reaction to the joy around him, than the words he only just now processed as he has an above average ability to recall while his mind is elsewhere. He and Sylvia really are lucky to have Gilenn and Yulsie as parents, and such a warm loving home he thought. As human children to an Iridonian father and a human mother that they bear very little physical resemblance to, it was made known to them at a very young age that they were both adopted, but despite this they have always felt like a very tight-knit family. As socially uncommon as it is in the galaxy to marry outside of your species, it is even more so on such a pro-Imperial planet such as Telos that has such Xenophobic tendencies.

Whatever social pressures their highly successful parents experience outside of the home, they have never allowed it to stress their family's relationship, which has always let home be an enclave for everything challenging that the galaxy has ever thrown their way. Daron would do fine at the University he decided, and he would make his way to go on to be a highly decorated Imperial officer who will be in a position to make a difference in the galaxy. He would be able to enforce peace and justice and-

"Pence-credit for your thoughts" Daron suddenly heard his father say while looking directly at him.

"I was just thinking about umm… tomorrow, he replied, and about big picture stuff, and… you know," Daron replied.

As eloquent of a speaker as he usually was, he rarely used anything less than well constructed sentences worthy of either poetic prose or a professional business meeting in even the most comfortable of surroundings, which made Sylvia smirk when he answered.

She cut in, "if you were half the philanthropist you aim to become, you would probably big picture stuff and do all my homework for me, you know."

It was mild teasing, but it was teasing at the dinner table nonetheless.

"Be nice to your brother Sylvia", her mother told her, "he's going to have enough work ahead of him this semester with the very challenging science and engineering courses he has decided to take all at once. I really cannot blame him for being a bit scatterbrained"

"Advancing in the Imperial Navy is very challenging, Daron replied, to make it as a career officer, which I plan to do, you have to have more qualifications than your competition. This semester might be one of painful study, but a strong science background will set me apart from everyone else applying."

Daron knew that his desire to not only join, but to someday attain a leadership position in the Empire made everyone except his parents very proud. As uncomfortable as the idea of fighting makes any parent, he accepts that it makes them feel like they raised their son right if he is willing to work so hard in order to fight for a position to serve the galaxy, but they'd rather he did it another way. Although he knows that his true motivation is that he has fantasized his whole life about adventure and fighting against enemies of peace, order, and the lifestyle that civilized planets that benefit from Imperial management enjoy, he knows that the aspect of his decision that would be wise to share with others is the service and the sacrifice. That's what the public and the family likes to hear. After that he will then be able to put all the bullies, barbarians, and terrorists that the galaxy has to offer in their place. Why worry the family with the details, he thought.

Well son, I'm sure you will show the Empire what a NAME is made of, Gilenn proclaimed. That much I am sure of.

**Ch**

"Social Perspectives as taught from a Galactic and multi-xenological standpoint," Professor Xialilian announced quietly. He then proclaimed much louder, "in this class you will do very little study from the textbook!"

This brought loud cheers and a standing ovation from the class.

Sylvia and Daron smirked at each other, and Daron whispered "there's a catch, there's always a catch."

The Professor, an Ithorian with a seeming sense of satirical humor then proceeded to announce that the bulk of the work, which will be substantial, will consist of serious in class discussions, research projects, and practical field assignments.

Only Daron laughed.

As this was the only class that Daron and Sylvia shared, they decided that they would work together on assignments whenever able. During the very first class discussion they had learned that they were of a minority opinion in the class, by having pro-Imperial viewpoints and by not being, as their father would so eloquently put it, "crazy son of a Hutt conspiracy theorists." Daron and Sylvia may have been younger than their classmates, but they marveled at the immaturity that they displayed. Although Professor Xialilian never lost control of the class, and never allowed anything to be so unpatriotic to the Empire that it would be deemed inappropriate, he would allow the discussions to get dangerously close to seditious. This he would explain, is a controlled environment, in which young minds can have room to be exercised and grow which makes the students valuable members of the Empire.

Daron argued various points fiercely as Sylvia responded only when called upon. The topics ranged from xenologic discrimination only applying to those that differ greatly from humans and refuse to conform, to crazy theories about how Telos has always had some sort of cosmic connection with pivotal struggles between Jedi and their sworn enemies who are supposed to be some other Jedi called Sith, and that it is very likely that the survival or failure of the Empire likely lies on events that would be occurring right at this very moment on this planet, for some reasons having to do with that connection and that it has been ten years since the Jedi had betrayed the Republic.

"Now that's a mouthful," Daron thought, "not to mention, their points lack consistency and validity, which in this class of soft minds would mean that the majority wildly approved of them. Sometimes I wish I could just tell them how they ought to think."

Sylvia made eye contact with her brother, "sigh, it's going to be a long semester."

As they walked out together Sylvia and Daron made light banter joking about members in their class, and how well adjusted they are in fact _not_ to normal interaction in the real world.

Daron brought up the coursework, "so we have a semester long project and I was thinking we would be the only ones to choose the high road and do something difficult and choose to interview somebody who has made an impact, a real definable difference in society."

"That's the most difficult option to choose from, and wouldn't that be the perverbial low road, I never really got that," Sylvia mused. She then switched into a mock manly voice, and put on what she called _squinty face _"but yes, of course we will be alone in choosing it, thus securing our high marks."

"Well then, I guess you are lucky to be in this class with me," Daron added with a sardonic grin as he took her sarcasm in stride.

"Please, you're the one who's lucky to have me on board! I'm not afraid of some good old fashioned hard work, especially if it means that I don't have to do a carbon copy project like everybody else, or work with some crazies will put some nutworthy spin on my work. So brother, _I_ welcome _you_ to _my _team, Sylvia joked.

"Then we're on, good!" Well, I'm off to find myself through deeper thought in my next class, Daron laughed as he began to part ways.

"Ah yes, your infamous selection of Kel Dor hokey pokey"

"Speaking infamous selections," Daron paused and turned around, "I believe you have a date with a geriatric spectacle of fame and an assortment of humanoids who want to stab at you, Daron interjected."

Sylvia said not a word, as the often rehearsed and much used scrunched up sad face conveyed her feelings one hundred percent to her brother. Finally she mustered the statement "Yay, sports!" in a mock cheering tone.

Neither ever been too involved with most popular organized sports or their fanfare they each shared a laugh.

**Ch**

Sylvia's mind swam with thoughts as Swordmaster Danton Lyssa gave lecture in front of the class, who sat cross legged on the gymnasium floor.

"So he is a living legend amongst those who practice dueling with all matter of blades, and most definitely the alpha male in this intermediate level fencing class judging from the way that the other students are vying for his attention. I can't really say I'm that impressed," Sylvia thought, "I would never have picked him out of a crowd."

She realized that Professor Ainslee hadn't mentioned that there was actually a required test of basic physical endurance and fencing knowledge before you could register for this class, that she recently learned that others had taken, which she had not, but somehow was able to register anyway.

"Sigh. Am I really going to have to duel against these sycophantic males just in order to attend this school? And why am I the only female in this class? At least I really don't stand out too much, there is a wide enough variety of alien races and one or two human males that seem somewhat more frail than most girls that I know. At least everybody has only two arms, two legs, and one head, I'm lucky there, no prehensile appendages… that I can see. I really don't want to get hit today!"

The predictable anatomy is the bright side Sylvia thought as she eyed her classmates, the downside is that many of these participants seem that they will take this very seriously, and a few at closer look to be in very impressive shape. "Well I should probably start paying attention to his lectu- Hey! Why is everybody getting up and choosing training epees from the racks?"

Professor Lyssa then made an announcement instructing the class to pick up a weapon that complimented their personalities, and to take a moment to walk around the room and select such a blade.

"If these are blunted weapons that mimic actual dueling swords," Sylvia thought, "why call them blades, and what's the big deal anyway, as she began to look at the different styles and types. I have absolutely no plans of being hit today, especially not by my own blade in some clumsy gesture since I've never even held one, other than perhaps my brother's playswords as a young child. Oh my brother, why am I stuck in this class and not him? Okay, focus, people are going to be swinging sticks at my head in a few moments, and I at least need to perform average if I'm to get a passing grade."

Sylvia eyed many of the training blades, and passed over many before settling on her choice, which when she saw it she was certain was the one. It had a curved hilt, which meant to her that the blade points away from the body as it is held in a natural position. "Away is good!"

The aged professor's voice boomed. "Everybody line up and face an opponent. Today is the first day, and I am certain that you bring with you many bad habits which you have developed over a lifetime of doing things incorrectly. I need to see these habits if I am to break you of them. When I say Fight you will do your best to balance the needs of defending yourself and scoring a hit on your opponent. When I say Stop you will cease your bout and rotate to your left and salute your next opponent. I will periodically spar with a few of you between watching some bouts, and I will be holorecording this session so that I can analyze and scrutinize your techniques so that I will know how to individually help each of you throughout this semester."

"Great," Sylvia thought. "Individual attention, so much for blending in and scathing by!"

Sylvia's first opponent was a Twi'lek male named Boro. He had broad shoulders, and equally broad smile, and very distracting bright green skin. "Okay," Sylvia said to herself, "keep focused and have fun with this or it will be miserable, pretend in your mind that this is the dance class you wanted, and you just might get through this."

As the bout began, Boro's movements telegraphed three things very quickly. First, he had done this before. He stood like a swordsman, moved like one, and held the blade just like in the holovids. Second, he did not want to hurt Sylvia, and was holding back ever so slightly the power that she knew his quite large and poofy muscles possessed. Third, as if to completely contradict her second observation he was not afraid to hit her with faster less powerful strikes, as he unleashed a barrage of underpowered blows in a flurry that she felt she was extremely lucky to have just barely avoided.

"Breathe, you're dancing, not fighting," Sylvia told herself as if she were her own coach, and she attempted to get her mind into that relaxing state of flow that she would experience only during dance practices. She feared being hit by her opponent's glorified stick, but she decided it just wasn't going to hit her today. As she focused, the bouts around her had thickened into somewhat of a blur, although for some reason she was very aware of each and every one of them. Her footwork mimicked that of many dances she had in the past danced, executed flawlessly this time, and her mind seemed to instinctively wrap itself around this problem of not getting hit. She danced and danced around his feet and his blade, and was always a step ahead of him.

When she heard "STOP" she snapped out of it, and realized that she forgot she was even holding a blade. As she mentally absorbed what had just happened, she realized that she had moved gracefully around every single one of his rapid strikes, neither blocking with her blade, nor attacking for about a full minute. Boro stared at her wide eyed and could only manage to whimper a "good match" before rotating to the next opponent.

"Okay," she decided as she still did not want to get hit that she would do the same thing, only she would occasionally push aside an attack with her blade and even strike with hers so that she can avoid making an impression as she clearly just had with Boro. She did not expect to be able to immerse herself so fully into the "dance" feeling, but was amazed that not only could she, but she was able to actually get better at it.

This just became fun!

Her next few opponents she danced around, in her mind saying "_poke_" every time she would lightly tap the tip of her weapon into their midsections, which she seemed to never miss when she attempted. Or rather she thought she was saying in her mind, she actually said it ever so quietly that only her frustrated opponents were able to hear as they were ever so lightly hit, as if by a feather, by her blade.

"Who is this girl?" her last opponent said aloud after suffering a humiliating defeat. Oops, that was one of those students that were very serious about this, "sorry" she whispered as she considered maybe she should've taken it easier on him. She wondered inwardly why they were not much better than this at stabbing her thing as she rotated to her next opponent.

As she stepped into place, she realized that in front of her stood Danton Lyssa. Before I start the match young lady, I would like you to look around the room. She noticed that everybody in the room, even the athletic looking ones were drenched in sweat and looked absolutely winded from the effort of moving less than half as much as she would during bouts, and were trying to pull it together for just another match. Everybody that is, except for Professor Lyssa and herself.

Up until now, Sylvia had been having far too much fun to notice anybody else's condition or be tired herself, although she was quite certain that even her dancer's muscles would be sore later. It was curious to her that she hadn't needed to sweat as much as she normally would have even during a light jog, but she just made a lighthearded joke about not being gross because she is a girl. Whatever you have been doing this class be sure to keep doing it now Lyssa said to her.

What Sylvia did next was exactly not that. She did not think that she was nervous or overthinking things, but her awkward movements in the first three seconds resulted in the first time she had been hit.

Hit. Ever, and really by anything other than the floor during a dancing misstep. Ouch!

Lyssa took a half step back and bellowed encouragement, and Sylvia decided that she could probably do this one last time today. No, she decided, she WILL, or else she will soon be riddled with painful bruises.

The instant her mind was back in its proper place, everything was right. Her current opponent was no more to her than any of the amateurs in her class, only two hands, two legs, and the rest a human has to offer, and even though she would not let herself be arrogant, she would still insist to herself that it was fun, which made this man, and the idea of being hit, not scary.

As the bout resumed, she danced around a few of his strikes, and then she realized a moment too late that he was testing her. In the flash of an eye, her stick flew from her hand straight to the ground, and a she felt a very light tap to her midsection. "_Poke," _she could hear one of the students who should've been focusing on their own match, whisper lowly.

Her hand stung a bit, but it was her confidence that was shaken more than anything else. As she began to almost lose the mental footing that she had previously attained, Lyssa said something to her that would stick with her forever, and she would need to repeat to herself and others many times in the future.

"That which you were just a few moments ago, you still are… don't get lost in the now." It should have been very difficult for her to get back into her flow, but she was amazed at how quickly she snapped back into it. She had honestly never felt quite like this before, although she really has never challenged herself quite in this way either, even during her most difficult of dances. Not that any of those dances were easy, some were quite grueling in fact, but this feels different somehow, or the same, she wasn't sure what that meant when she found herself thinking it.

As she followed her footwork to bring her body to safety just beyond the reach of his strikes she knew that he was letting her do it, and as he would create an opening in his defense only to block her attack just in time, she was keenly aware that he was in control of that too. He then declared "five more seconds to try and hit me," which she immediately saw through as a trick he uses against other impulsive fencers to get them to make a mistake.

It may be her first day, but she was not about to make that one. The last five seconds she was far more defensive than aggressive, but at the last second he disarmed her, probably just to prove that she can learn a lot from him.

When Professor Lyssa dismissed class he said many inspiring words to his students that Sylvia could tell had them all enamored and imagining themselves as younger versions of him. "_Boys_," she though. She too was in an elated mood, but they had nothing to do with his words, she honestly didn't even listen too closely.

As she was putting her blade on the rack, Lyssa walked up to her and said carte blank, "so you've years of rehearsed choreograph training to a semi-professional level, but you've never held a weapon in your life. I believe that sums it up."

She stared at him for a moment, and he continued "your movements betray you, I recognize the footwork, although my wife who is the artist of the family would do a far better job than me in naming the specific dance patterns you use, but I assure you that I see what is there."

Not quite sure why she was asking, she whispered "how do you know that I have never fenced before?" "Pick your blade back up for a moment," he gestured toward the rack.

As she did he told her "between us, your footing is better than everybody else's in the class, and in my opinion it is better than about half of the contenders in the professional circuits. There is much that carries over from your obvious years of training in the arts of dance, and you move with a grace, speed, and precision that few can match. That is the good part. Now I need to tell you that although I believe in life there are always many different ways to accomplish a goal, and some things may work better for some than others, what you are doing with your weapon will never work for anybody. I often hesitate to tell somebody that they are doing something wrong, but the way you hold and manage that weapon is absolutely, one hundred percent incorrect. And absurd. I cannot be more clear about that."

"_Jerk"_ is what she thought, but certainly not what she said. What came out was "umm, thanks?"

He managed a smile as he said, "you have done far more correctly today than that minor thing of actually holding the weapon that we fight with. Whatever your reasons for being in my intermediate level class without ever having done this, I can tell that you actually enjoyed yourself greatly today, as was evident by the audible giggling as you won several bouts."

"Sorry about that", she said.

He laughed, "not at all, the more you actually like the class the more you'll be able to put up with the grueling and painful aspects of the training that it is my job to make sure you undergo, as I correct each and every bad habit for every student in the class."

"You can really do that?" she asked.

"Well, maybe not all of them, but if you'll let me I can make an amazing duelist out of you. But tell no one, they pay me to treat everybody the same here" the old man said as he winked.

**Ch**

Mack's Cantina. An upscale lounge about a fifteen minute's speeder ride from the University, is a place where many well to do citizens and travelers enjoy a meal and a drink. Most students do not go there quite as often since it is one of the more pricey establishments, but after a few weeks of classes have gone by, Daron and Sylvia decided they needed to go. Mack had won numerous awards for his chef accolades, and his cantina was what they referred to as a cash cow for that reason.

Neither had planned on having a drink, although lunch was sounding good, rather the point of this trip was to interview the owner, who in turn is a disabled veteran that has overcome adversity and established himself as a successful entrepreneur, which is perfect for their assignment.

"So do you think we ought to have had dad arrange a meeting for us today, Mack doesn't even know that we are coming?" Sylvia asked her brother while he navigated the busy streets.

"Nah," he said, "I don't think he remembers meeting us anyway, this way we might even get to observe him in his element, and if he's too busy to talk to us we can always glean the information we can today from observing his interactions and then schedule a good time with him later."

"You're shrewd," she replied, "it's about time for the corporate lunch rush, you don't expect to actually interview him today, do you?"

"Could happen," he mulled, "stranger things have occurred, but we are ready to interview him if he does speak with us."

"That's very calculating, and yet not offensive in any way, unless you count to me, your partner in this who was uninformed," she exclaimed. "You learned that from dad, didn't you?"

He smiled, "our dad knows the game."

"Well yes, she agreed, he really is good, which of course is why he managed to gain Mack's trust enough to dine together and talk finances a few times per year, which is not exactly the glue which holds relationships together, and I really do not think we ought to jeopardize what they do have by being sneaky!"

"What is the big deal? He was starting to feel like he should be on the defensive all of a sudden, "we're just going to gather some information."

"I don't know," she exhaled, "it really is.. just a feeling really. Like we are about to do something of consequence."

'We'll be careful, we're just working on a school project, not spying for the Empire. I just think we will get top marks on our project if we have a bit more to add then just the usual interview stuff that everyone else will have. I mean this guy was gravely wounded fighting fires in the Clone Wars, and while being forced into retirement with very little severance is both willing and able to contribute to the Empire by running such a successful business, the more we can write about him the better!"

"How do you know about his severance," Sylvia asked, "you didn't…"

"I'm just very impressed by him Sylvia, that's all, that is why he was my first choice for this project after all. Which by the way, I know that he was your first choice too, and you never really said why," Daron interjected.

"Hey, we're here, and it looks crowded, lets park the speeder and order lunch," Sylvia said to change the subject.

"Let me guess," Daron stated. "You don't really know why do you, you're just doing that thing again where you trust your gut to make big decisions rather than learn all the facts and weigh all your options?"

"Mmmm, lunch! I really am hungry after all that stabbing of people I had to do this morning. Yes brother, that is my way of saying that I just had a hunch, that's all, is that so bad?"

"With your track record sis, no, not bad at all."

**Ch **

Mack's Cantina did not look like much from the outside, but upon walking in Sylvia and Daron could see from the marble accents and colorful décor that an experienced artist or fashion designer must have been consulted in decorating the plush interior. There were five separate rooms, each with their own specific accents that still contributed to the overall theme without being tacky.

Moments after being seated Daron exclaimed, "this layout is brilliant! See how no matter which of the five rooms you are actually seated you still have an equal view of the bar? No matter where you are seated you still feel that you are in a Cantina, whereas normally you would need multiple bars to accomplish this. And look, there is Mack behind that very same bar polishing glasses by hand, while droids and serving staff worked at a furious pace to keep up with preparing food, drinks, and serving the guests."

Surely enough, at the other end of the establishment stood Mack, visual evidence of his disability evident by the cybernetic implants around his collar area that are impossible to hide. Standing at about two meters tall, the ebony skin on his face showed numerous scars that obvious attempts at reconstructive surgery were only just able to make palatable. He was extremely well dressed in luxurious name brands of Telosian executive fashion, and from the neck down the only betrayal to his seemingly perfect physique are his metallic skeletal hands that convey to the casual observer that the body underneath the suit is mostly cybernetic as well.

"So you approve of his business plan I take it?" Sylvia murmured.

"It's the ambience that he is providing. We both know that the old man does not need to polish those glasses, and rather slowly at that, but we all see him doing it whether or not we are even cognizant of the fact that we notice, which gives it the homely feel. Even as crowded as this place is, seeing a calm center amongst the storm of movement behind the bar gives the impression that you are not dining in an establishment that is overwhelmed. Which tells me that he pays attention to the little details which is why I'm sure he is so successful here," Daron concluded.

"Well, you expected that Mack would not be available to speak with us, but it would appear that he is occasionally making what looks like small talk to bar patrons from time to time, I bet he actually would have some time for us," Sylvia observed.

"We are paying customers," Daron grinned as he keyed his observations into a datapad and shoved a mouthful of appetizers, "lesh eat firsh."

**Ch**

As Sylvia and Daron finalized their observations of Mack and his establishment, dessert arrived. They must have looked away from the bar area for a few moments too many, because they were caught completely off guard when they looked up and realized that the man serving their plates was Mack himself. They were doubly caught off guard when Mack remembered their names from briefly meeting them years ago in the company of their father, and somehow Daron managed to get the right words out to get Mack to agree to having a seat at their table for a few minutes to answer some questions for their project.

In Sylvia's mind that whole part seemed to have whirred by in a blur, but the important part is that Mack was more than happy to share a few answers for their school project. After all, he is always more than happy to give back in small ways to his community. Something felt a bit odd to Sylvia about the last few moments, but she decided to try and keep up with the conversation and think more about this matter of losing focus for a few moments later.

"And after that", Mack went on, "I was no longer fit for duty, so even before the surgeries began I knew that I had to think about the future. My rehabilitation was paid for by what at the time was the newly formed Empire, because my injuries occurred while serving the Republic as a firefighter on Coruscent, and my benefits carried over. I knew that I would be fitted with prosthetics and a few implants that would function as the variety of glands and organs in my body that were rendered useless used to, which would keep me on my feet and working, but I would never be quite as capable as I used to be. I chose to come to Telos because I have always enjoyed my prior visits here, and had seen the opportunities for the type of business that I am in even then. I had a very long rehabilitation process in which I was able to put together the details of my future business, so by the time I was ready to come here enacting my plan was rather mundane. The hardest part was finding reliable chefs who can keep the quality of cuisine to my liking, and suppliers for the freshest of ingredients and the best ales. Once that was in motion all I needed to do was sit back and allow my managers to work on the day to day aspects. They do that very well as I have taught them to, in fact, in my opinion, the key to reaching success is that you must work very hard to make your role obsolete. I must admit that I have finally accomplished that."

"I hardly doubt that you are obsolete sir", Daron interjected.

"You are very kind to say that young man, but I assure you that I am complimenting myself greatly when I tell you this. If I still had to manage this place as I did at the start then I would not be able to oversee the way that I currently do, which frees me up to think outside of the box and come up with new and brilliant ideas. I certainly would not have the time to entertain guests one on one or give interviews to students who would learn from my experience."

"I think I understand," Sylvia chimed in, "so one could work every day, but as long as they are still needed they are not yet successful, but it is not until things can go on without them have they truly achieved success. And there is a strong implication that one must teach others the aspects of your role before this can occur."

Mack smiled, "that is exactly right, which of course does not mean that once you are successful you should cease your activity, but rather you should seek opportunities to create new roles for yourself based on necessity… and then make yourself obsolete there too."

Daron looked enlightened, "I have just learned more in ten minutes of speaking with you, than I have in every business class that I have taken up to this point. Although our assignment is to profile an individual that embodies what the Empire looks for in a citizen, you have given us so much more than just the bare minimum cut and dry facts. You have a very interesting history and a very inspiring presence, and I would like to thank you for the time you've taken out of your day to meet with us."

"It's the least that I could do, besides, I consider it an investment in all of our futures to have this talk, he said with a smile. When you need a few of your tougher questions answered be sure to come back and see me, you'll know when."

**Ch**

Family dinner, being the grand tradition that it is, was a big event at the NAME household tonight. It was the midpoint of Sylvia and Daron's first year of University study, and not only had they achieved excellent grades, but they were doing very well in their extracurricular activities. Sylvia had been doing so well in her fencing class that Lyssa had asked her to compete in an upcoming tournament, which in turn means that she is now a registered member of the dueling club, and a collegiate athlete. Daron has been very active in the debate club, political leadership club, and as a strange twist which surprised his parents, has been training extra during his off time to qualify as a certified junior instructor in Kel Dor meditation.

"It really helps me to organize my mind," Daron explained. "Not that I ever realized that such things could be helpful, I have just discovered that I can do things with my memory and use my mind as a workable slate to organize tasks in ways that I never could before. I know how this sounds to you."

Their father chucked, "now son, you know what we would say if it affected your engineering studies or your other activities, or… your hygiene"

"Very funny dad."

"But seriously son, although it may seem weird to me, there must be some aspects of this that are beneficial, otherwise an entire culture would not endorse them, and it would seem that you are able to capitalize from these. I'm quite certain that you will not end up foregoing footwear, cleanliness, and work ethics as most who follow this path tend to do when "finding themselves." And Sylvia, you are full of surprises too, I'd never have expected that you'd have taken to your activities the way that you have. Lyssa speaks very highly of you."

"You talk to Lyssa?"

"I talk to everyone my dear, Telos may be a large planet but it is a very small community at the same time. Which is how I know that you two are doing some sort of project on the owner of Mack's Cantina."

"Daron and Sylvia exchanged glances, "we haven't mentioned that to anybody yet," Daron explained, "he was kind of an Ace up our sleeve that we were going to use when we present in Social Perspectives, we didn't want any other students to catch on and match our caliber." Daron explained.

"Which means that the two of you have obviously benefitted from years of your mother's and my instruction, because that is an excellent idea which will set you two apart from other students in the class. As it so happens I ran some financial numbers for Mack a few weeks ago and the two of you came up in conversation," Gilenn admitted.

"So what made you pick Mack for your project," their mother asked. "He is a good candidate, I'm just wondering why you chose him over some of the others that would be great as well, such as some of the doctors and scientists here on Telos. What gave him the edge?"

Sylvia and Daron looked at each other for a moment, and finally Daron spoke up. "Sylvia and I honestly haven't discussed why we both agree on him, only that we did. You two are going to think that I am a bit odd for admitting this, especially after the Kel Dor teasing I've endured tonight, but as I've said I've been reviewing my tasks in meditation, and have been practicing visualizing future tasks as if I'd already done them to see if they are good ideas. Interviewing Mack always came back as a good idea."

After a moment of silence, Gilenn spoke up, "you are right son… we are going to think you are a bit odd."

After pausing for dramatic effect he continued, "then again what isn't odd about your middle aged successful parents whose eccentricity is what has driven them to be near experts in their respective fields," he smiled.

"You might not want to share your methods with everybody lest they distrust your judgment," Yulsie added, "but you are hardly the first successful person to trust their intuition once in a while. Biologically speaking, your subconscious probably absorbed and sorted the details that you've actively been considering, and you were able to retrieve them while you were training to quiet your mind."

"See, Gilenn added, a scientific solution, not everything that sounds absolutely hokey really has to be. Rest assured our son is not crazy. Well, not as crazy as us anyway.

"So Sylvia," Yulsie began, "since we've decided that your brother is definitely crazy, why did you decide on Mack?"

"Um, it kind of made sense to me when Daron mentioned him, and I went along with it," Sylvia responded as she shot her brother a quick glance."

Gilenn smiled, "You went along with him? Now that's just crazy."

**Ch**

Sylvia took a few warm up swipes with her foil into the air. She had not expected the University Arena to fill to capacity as it did, which made her a bit nervous. She had agreed to participate in tournaments but was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed realizing that her participation is solely based on the fun that she'd been having, and that every participant that seems to compete at her level has put in years of training whereas she had just spent the last few months drilling her techniques and perfecting her blade handling, while marrying her footwork from years of practice with her newfound talents.

Professor Lyssa had explained to her that in many ways she has been training for years without realizing it, as he had never had a student arrive with such spectacular footwork, and in other ways she is a natural. She still favored the straight blade with the curved handle that she picked up on the very first day, although Lyssa was sure to train her in a variety of other styles and blade types, and teaching her about the strengths and weaknesses of each. During their last training session before this tournament, he told her in a very encouraging manner that she not only duels like a proper fencer, but like a proper Echani as well.

She knew that her parents, brother, and many friends were in the audience somewhere and would be cheering for her, although she was not quite sure where.

"Not a big deal," she said to herself, "I'm ready for this, and even though this is my first time it is very encouraging that there will be several bouts going on at once, so all eyes will not be on me unless I make it to the final bouts, which as much faith as Lyssa may put in me I know that I haven't been doing this as long as these competitors so although I am confident that I will score some points for our school's team, I have no expectation of going all the way."

Sylvia took comfort in her relative obscurity during her first bout as she mentally prepared in the moments prior to beginning. As soon as the bout began, and the usual slowing of background perceptions began she was distracted by something that she hadn't experienced before. Her brother Daron.

"POINT!" The referee announced.

"Ouch that hurts every spacing time! Okay focus, no more me getting hit" Sylvia thought to herself.

It was slightly distracting that she was not fully able to ignore his seeming presence in her mind, but she managed to keep him in the peripherals of her perception while she came back and won the bout.

There were a few minutes before she was up again, so after her team and coach had finished congratulating her, she scanned the area of the audience in the direction that her mind was telling her Daron was during the bout.

"Please don't be where I think you are," she said to herself as her eyes focused on the nosebleed section, "because that would mean I'm going insane, or…"

Sylvia found her brother sitting amongst their friends that she instantly recognized, and could see her parents a few rows back. She did the only thing that made sense to her at the time, she managed a smile and waved.

Match after match went on, and Sylvia paid little attention to her standing. She knew that she came into this event with no prior ranking or experience, and would have to perform almost flawlessly to make it into the final bouts.

Apparently the last two matches counted as finals. And she was made aware of this by her team rushing, congratulating her, and hoisting her on their shoulders suddenly and unexpectedly to her after the last win.

"It's amazing the things you miss when you spend the whole time in your questionably stable head," she thought as she noticed that her family and friends had moved down into the team area, and Lyssa was greeting them.

"We're soo proud of you," Yulsie exclaimed in a motherly tone as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. Her friends and father said encouraging words to her as they beamed excitement, but she noticed that Daron has been lagging towards the rear of the group and was rather quiet.

He managed a "go get 'em sis," as they made eye contact, but she knew her brother well enough to know that something was very wrong.

The inevitable lineup of the final bout of the tournament felt very small to Sylvia when she got her mind back into her state of flow, and of course Daron was still there in her mind, but by this point in the afternoon she was able to cope with the unexpected.

Her opponent was a Sullustan whose compact features looked to have a sense of leanness and grace to them. "Not important, the only things that matter are hips, shoulders, feet, and blade. Everything else is a distraction," she remembered.

"A really, really fast distraction, that is always in the right place at the right time!" She realized, as she dueled against the toughest opponent she ever has, with the obvious exception of Lyssa.

Sylvia and her opponent were very well matched, they varied their techniques and speeds to catch the other off guard, which between the Sullustan's years of training and perfection of technique, and Sylvia's talents neither were able to accomplish.

They fought to a 0-0 draw, which while allowable in routine matches, is not allowed in the finals so they would have to duel a sudden death bout where the first one to score a point will win the match.

Suspense built as a three minutes water and rest period was winding down, and during this time Sylvia stayed in her mental zone. She was feeling something new and unfamiliar to her, she wanted to win. Not just a little, she decided that she wants very much to win.

This was the first major tournament of the year, and Sylvia has already made it much further than expected, so there would be no consequences to losing this bout, other than that she had decided suddenly that it goes against every fiber of her being. Having never really been all that competitive before, this seemed like an odd place to start she thought, but this would be more than just fun, this would be serious.

The Sullustan came at her with the same speed and impeccable technique as before, and strategy she decided, is what would help her win. She had an uncanny ability to do this without getting tired, and is able to reenergize and stave off the inevitable fatigue whenever she feels it set in so she decided that she would parry and flurry back and forth until her opponent physically tires.

The crowd stared wide eyed as their firey exchange went back and forth for several minutes, expecting a point to be scored but never seeing it come to fruition. What many in the crowd knew, but Sylvia did not is that this was the Sullustan's last collegiate match as he had just signed a professional contract a week ago, so they were in awe that someone they had never heard of was not only holding their own, but actually stood a chance of defeating him. Eventually the cheers became an awed silence that only the ringing of the blades were audible.

He would not tire. Sylvia realized that he was able to pace himself by varying his sprints in a cyclical manner, while keeping up his level of activity just as high. She began to suspect that he might actually be cheating with biological enhancements to sustain his efforts. She was quite impressed by her opponent nonetheless, as she was sure the onlookers were, and it was only now that she realized they must be thinking similar thoughts about her. "Guess I'm in better shape than I thought," Sylvia voiced internally.

Sylvia now wanted to win this thing.

She was in her usual state of flow, enjoying what she was doing still with this newfound desire to be the overall victor of this competition, when she just wished his movements would slow for just a few moments so she could score a point and win the match.

She was fully aware of her opponent, his abilities, and his physical presence through sort of a spacial awareness that she was enjoying along with her usual perceptions in this state, and found that she had become as cognizant of him as she was of herself. She was sure that she could actually sense his heart rate, but would not lose focus on this, because above all else she demanded of herself right now that she would win.

Still wishing his movements would slow, something very awkward occurred. He slowed, or rather most of him slowed, and she was pretty sure that she made him do it.

Unfortunately for him, his feet were still moving when the rest of his body suddenly became sluggish, which caused him to stumble.

This took place in the matter of a second, and Sylvia managed to point the tip of her blade into the center of his chest and apply pressure.

"POINT!" The ref yelled excitedly, as the crowd roared in applause.

**Ch**

Later that night Daron was at debate practice, and he was having trouble coming to terms with what he witnessed earlier today. Of course he was very happy for his sister coming in first at such a large tournament, and he told her exactly that as he hugged her before coming here, which he almost skipped so he could go out and celebrate with her, but having decided to fulfill this one obligation on his busy schedule first he would meet up later he had a few moments to review in his mind what he saw today.

"Fact," he thought, "I have been experiencing a myriad of sensations that I cannot share with anybody else in my meditations."

"Fact," he went on, "today I experienced similar and yet wholly different phenomena involuntarily not just from, but for lack of a better understanding, through, my sister, and it appeared to me as if she could manipulate this… something."

"Fact," he continued, "I have a trained and disciplined mind, and if I force myself to step outside of myself and evaluate this situation from the perspective of an outsider who is fully aware of the facts, I am left with an obvious, but unpleasant conclusion, which comes with a laundry list of implications.

As debate practice began, the club was separated into small groups which were assigned a side in a given debate topic, and as Daron did not wholly participate as he usually would, he found himself on a team that was losing.

His team members were not quite as talented, and they had been working so hard to maintain the verbal momentum that had the team on a gradual downslide, nobody quite noticed that Daron was not quite at his best.

"Sigh, my heart just is not quite in it tonight," he thought to himself as an idea came to him, and he was just emboldened enough from the experience with his sister that he would actually try it.

"Let me do the closing argument," he whispered to his teammates, who offered no objections.

"Okay," he thought to himself, "this is just practice, all I have to do is convince the team's academic advisor who is acting judge and moderator at practices, of our team's position and then debate will be over. Everyone in this room has heard me debate very well in the past, so what if this fails and I have but one embarrassing debacle?

When it was time to close he knew that he was at a disadvantage because his team was to go close first, which meant that the other team would be able to rebuttal, but he would try this anyway. He closed his eyes briefly to allow his subconscious to show him what he believes to be future results and guide his next course of action.

Daron stood up straight and began, "the points that the other team have made, are all true. Yet they do not account for the whole truth. Having been fed snippets of truth and led in a direction by this truth you have been given an incorrect conclusion. After my turn to speak this same team will lie to you with the truth again, and they will sound believable."

Daron did not look at the other team at all, but envisioned them, and the moderator being in complete agreement with his words. "For this reason, and the tendency for people to believe the last argument they've heard as long as it is worded well, the opposing team will be forfeiting its turn to give a closing argument, and we win.

His team stared at him in disbelief, and as if their expressions could not show more surprise, the speaker from the other team stood up, and in a similar cadence to Daron's speech announced that they will be forfeiting their turn, and then took a seat.

"What!?" The moderator exclaimed, although his speech seemed a bit slurry and his eyes looked to Daron as though they'd just recovered from a glaze. "I don't often recommend forfeiture, but now that you have done so your team cannot win this debate. I would hope that this club will take practices a bit more seriously in the future and at least try even in spite of certain defeat, but Daron, good job. Your team wins."

Daron immediately excused himself and headed to his speeder, and began the trip home.

"Daron, good job. Your team wins," Daron heard his professor's voice replay in his head, immediately after the team withdrew that he told carte blank would.

"I'm dangerous," Daron thought to himself, which led him to think "Sylvia's dangerous, and she probably has no idea."

Their mother always had some very good scientific hypotheses that could possibly explain much of what is going on, but to Daron it was very clear what it truly was, and it could be very dangerous to himself and his family if he did not voluntarily come forward and identify himself to the Empire.

**Ch**

Than closed his eyes while jogging in place in his barely furnished apartment suite on Coruscent. Entering a trance that he finds useful to perform periodically, he began to view himself as if he were an outside observer seeing him for the very first time who is taking notes on his life.

He began his self assessment.

As a junior inquisitor who reports directly to his supervisor Tremayne, he found that the majority of his time has been spent in travel while following up on minor leads that are important enough to warrant investigation, but not quite important enough to send a more experienced inquisitor.

His style of meditation has always been a bit different as he finds himself able to quiet his mind best when he is active.

As a student of the force he has always found himself capable of opening his mind while performing tasks, such as running, hiking, and even mundane tasks such as cooking or gardening. The passive cross legged style just never quite appealed to him as he could accomplish the same that others do in his own way. Perhaps this is why he never quite made it as a Jedi.

"The Jedi," he said inwardly, "turned their backs on me a long time ago."

As a failed Padawan he had been given the opportunity to join the Agri-corps or another service just before the Clone Wars broke out, but declined. When he returned to his home system he had no problems finding immediate employment, considering that he had undergone some of the most difficult training in the galaxy. He had become a very wealthy man.

He opened his eyes briefly to view the spot where the Jedi Temple once stood, viewable from his apartment window. He decided not to think about his successful years in business, because in his mind that was just a temporary albeit rewarding fill, until this current opportunity to serve again would be the pinnacle of his career, and the latest chapter of his life.

Ever since the day that Tremayne had approached him about one year ago, he had been back in galactic service. To the Empire, he was just another routine lead that Tremayne had been following, and when fate finally had them meet face to face he walked away from his personal life and picked up right where he left off the day he left the Jedi, although things were very much different.

Apparently the Jedi and the Republic had been failing, and whatever events led to their plot to attempt to overthrow the Chancellor, and the Republic itself, the Jedi as an established order effectively ended that day.

"I am very proud to work for the man who held the galaxy together," he thought as he picked up his in place jogging pace.

As part of his induction, it was necessary for him to meet with the Emperor himself, and he was overwhelmed by the presence of the individual whose will was strong enough to forge an Empire out of a failing Republic. Tremayne had only a day's worth of travel time to prepare him for this, in which time he stressed that he should expect to feel many things differently than during his time of Jedi service, and to not let these things worry him. Tremayne also stressed the point that everything will be made clear in time.

"It is clear," he whispered to himself as he increased his pace to a full sprint.

The last advice that Tremayne had given him before the fateful meeting was to not lie to the Emperor. He does not like his time wasted, and you are very lucky to have this meeting. Remember that he will be testing your heart and spirit to see if you are fit for Imperial service, and he can see right through you.

As it happened Than would be twice as lucky, as the famous Lord Darth Vader was present. He had been prepared to expect a dark presence, but being in a room alone with just the two of them had opened his mind to just how powerful an individual can be in the force, as he could feel it rolling off the two of them in waves. It was difficult to remain focused.

He had felt as though they were uncharacteristically pleasant to him at first, but of course that was before the pain. Remembering clearly the details for a few moments made him shudder, but he passed the test that day, and had been sworn into service on the spot.

Tremayne had been summoned in immediately thereafter and ordered to remove Than, as it would take a few days of medical treatment before he regained the ability to walk. That would be the last time that Than had been face to face with the Emperor and the Dark Lord, but as a former business man he knew the value of that encounter. He would be reverent and subservient every time he is to meet with them again.

He ceased his in place run and began to pace the room. He had been following leads for the Empire over the last few months, with varying degrees of success, but something felt different about this next assignment. He gazed again at the spot where the former Jedi Temple stood, and settled his nerves. This next lead seemed quite inconsequential, which of course is why it belonged to him, but for some reason it felt uncharacteristically important, and the reason eluded his mind. He reread the report and began to make arrangements for his trip to Telos.

**Ch **

After discussing the unusual events that they had experienced the day prior, Daron and Sylvia decided to do the usual thing; act as though nothing had ever happened. They had come to an agreement that something was special about them, and Sylvia did not disagree with Daron's hypothesis of what exactly it is.

The disagreement was over what to do next. Daron had wanted to immediately report their suspicions to local law enforcement so it can travel through the proper chain of communication and they can be tested, then register their "condition" with the appropriate offices within the Empire, to avoid being suspected as Jedi collaborators and put on trial if they were ever discovered.

Sylvia did not think that Daron understood enough the implications of his decision, and that it would be so unlikely anyone would ever find out about their "condition" that they would do best to keep it their secret. What they decided on after a compromise was reached was a wait and see approach.

Daron and Sylvia had gone back to their day to day lives as though nothing had happened, until about a week later Sylvia insisted that she and Daron hop in the speeder and go for a short drive just to talk. She drove.

"Where are we going," Daron asked?

"I don't know," replied Sylvia, "the destination…probably doesn't matter, I think that we really need to find out some answers about ourselves, so I figured we should pick up where we left off last time we spoke."

"I can't turn it off," Daron said suddenly. "Whatever we have done that has made us like this, the awareness that I have been exploring over the past few months has seemed to grow a mind of its own, and I can no longer pretend that it is not there as I hoped I could. This whole week I tried my best unsuccessfully, and here we are now."

"Mine is not as persistent as yours," Sylvia admitted, "but it is there when I duel, when I dance, and really whenever I look for it. This past week I tried to think of some of the different alien species who have a few senses different from the rest of the sentient species of the galaxy, such as those with an extremely and somewhat disorienting in most environments sense of smell, and when living amongst humans must learn coping mechanisms to learn to either deal with them, suppress them, or leave. It seemed to me that I could study their models of fitting in except there is one flaw in my logic."

"They have other members of their species to learn from, years of experience of trial and error to fall back on, and usually the safety net of a home planet to return to if they fail," Daron cut in.

"Exactly, Sylvia continued, "I do not think you or I have lost our abilities to function in society yet, and perhaps some people might be able to deal with this condition on their own, but I do not believe we can. We would be the ones who are literally driven mad, and would be non-productive which could put us at risk of being discovered. That is not a path that I want to go down."

"I see now why the Empire is right to screen for this, and to sometimes keep it as secret as our conspiracy theorist associates have told us, and why it needs to be taken so seriously," Daron admitted.

Sylvia looked over at her brother for a moment while driving, "I know where you are going with this, and I do not think we ought to turn ourselves in immediately. I think we should first speak with someone who might know more about this. I think we ought to speak with Mack."

"What makes you think he knows anything," Daron asked defensively.

"I really do not know, in a way I feel like he has told us to, although I cannot explain it," she replied.

"Good," he said as he cracked a smile, "I just wanted to hear if you had a better reason than I for wanting to see him than I do. I keep playing future ways of proceeding in my head, and I keep seeing us going to him. Maybe he really can help."

"Worst he's gonna do is kick us out of his cantina and tell both our parents and the Empire. I'm not sure which is worse." Sylvia mused as she headed the speeder in the direction of Mack's Cantina.

**Ch**

Than suspected that the hyperdrive in the Theta class shuttle transporting him and his accompaniment of two commissioned pilots plus eight stormtroopers was a rebuild.

This was not uncommon, and the ship was underpowered which unfortunately was not uncommon as well.

He rarely had control when he signed out a shuttle for a mission as to which he would receive, although usually he would receive one of the Lambda models which were quickly replacing the overused and older model shuttles like the one he was currently in. This would be included in his report of course, but given the relatively low level of urgency of this mission, and the gradual replacement of older model shuttles being a known issue, it will likely be given little attention.

Than also suspected that Tremayne's selection of this mission was more of a hoop for him to jump through as a part of his training, than a lead that has a high potential of bearing fruit. The majority of missions such as these usually end up being fact collecting missions that wind up leading to some sort of misunderstanding, incorrectly reported facts, or gross exaggerations. Whenever the Empire's time and resources have been wasted however, and if an at-fault party can be identified, an example is always made. Still, something lingered in Than's mind about this, so he decided not to be complacent.

Cooped up on such a small ship, and having a few hours left Than decided that he should follow the example of the stormtroopers that were sleeping and recover his strength. Rather than sleep however, he decided to go through a few aerobic routines while meditating.

He had always found it very helpful to picture the universe as a very large entity, and then visualize his place in it as realistic as he can. Too many sentient beings he believed, have gross misperceptions of their importance, or sometimes lack of. Whether he would be the most important being, or insignificant, or something in between did not matter to him, rather knowing thy self and thy role in the galaxy was of utmost importance if one were to be truthful to thyself.

"Wisest thing I've ever learned from a holocron. Too bad the Jedi never taught that," he thought.

As Than retreated into his mind he thought of his role in the Empire.

Than knows his history. He has learned enough from the past, and has seen enough from the present to know that the Emperor follows the Sith model of governing. If there were any doubt in this, the strong dark presence that he encountered when he met the Emperor and Vader, as well as the use of the title "Darth," were so obvious to him that he realized there was no need for subtlety on their part, which in turn tells him a lot about his current role.

First, if they are following the historical roles than they are Sith Lords.

Second, there are no others quite like those two, and Emperor Palpatine seems to be grooming Vader to run the galaxy, so it seems that they are either unwilling to have others in the role of a Sith Lord, or there have up to this point been none worthy.

The previous historical Sith Empire had numerous Lords, and it is likely that Palpatine and Vader now are more concerned that having conquered an entire galaxy, now they actually have to manage it, so they do not welcome the competition. They now have power and they need to hold on to it. If Vader is to follow the tradition of taking his mentor's place, he not only needs to become more powerful, but he needs to learn to run the day to day affairs of being the Chief Executive Officer of the entire galaxy. He has a lot of work ahead of him.

Third, the Imperial Army and Navy have replaced most the functions that the former Jedi used to perform, however many of them are not appropriate for such a fighting force, which is when Lord Vader's intervention is often needed. As powerful as he may be, he cannot possibly be in more than one place at one time, so somebody else needs to perform the role that one would have had a Jedi perform. That presents a problem when considering that the Emperor and Vader cannot risk competition. The answer lies again in the historical model of the Sith Empire.

Fourth, in the past, only the most powerful force users could compete to possess the coveted title of Sith Lord, but the less powerful, who were in greater number, were still quite useful. A large number of acolytes were needed then, and they are certainly needed now. As the Empire wisely hunts the remaining Jedi, an offer of allegiance is often made to join their ranks. Also, it encourages existing force-users to come out of hiding. This practice will likely be discontinued someday when there is less vacancy.

Fifth and final point Than voiced internally, "I am a Sith Acolyte. Or better yet an Acolyte's apprentice as Tremayne would be the Acolyte, but there is very little distinction. The official title of course is "_Inquisitor_," but the job description is the same. In fact, I suspect that there would be Marauders and Assassins by other names in the Emperor's employ as well, but that is hardly my business if I want to stay alive and in my current line of work. I am encouraged, although not required, to tap into darker aspects of the Force in my work, and I have had to do terrible but necessary things to greater the glory and security of the Empire that many would consider unconscionable. My role is to investigate potential threats to the Empire, which includes but is not limited to former Jedi and adepts. Insurrections, rebellions, terrorist cells, and political extremists are also part of my job description, and there are far more of these than there are former Jedi in the galaxy."

What mattered most was results, and the means to bring about the ends were much less important, and questions rarely asked unless somehow relevant.

In his mind's eye he could see the entire galaxy moving forward as a working whole, and then magnify his view on himself and the role he plays as he, alongside the galaxy, is moving forward. Perfectly.

Still, something not quite right weighed on his mind in this picture around the area of Telos.

**Ch**

Mack's Cantina.

Daron and Sylvia never made it inside.

"I'd really appreciate it if the two of you were not seen going into my place tonight," a familiar voice said coming from a speeder parked close. "Follow me."

Having quickly hopped back inside their speeder, they agreed that this seemed very "_cloak and dagger_", but having had no better plans they sped to keep up with the executive model SoroSuub luxury speeder.

They followed towards the outskirts of the city where they were led to a private gate which opened for the lead speeder and quickly closed behind Daron and Sylvia, who both wondered in secret what the implications would have been had somebody simply tried to fly over the security wall. The mounted personal security weapons system that was likely automated which they viewed on the inside, answered their question.

They were led to park inside a garage, and going against any inhibitions, they went inside. After disembarking respective speeders Sylvia and Daron stood in front of Mac in a garage filled with several classic model luxury speeders in a variety of states of repair and disrepair. Enough tools and usable parts were arranged neatly enough to give the impression that a collector has been restoring them in their spare time.

"Sooo… where do we begin," Daron said amongst the three of them.

After a moment Mack responded, "let's move this to my study room, we have a lot to talk about."

**Ch**

"For ten thousand years," Mack exclaimed, "the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy.

"There. You now have the academic knowledge without the obvious practical applications that a five year old Jedi Youngling would have, so I will step briefly into the role of instructor, and then move on fairly quickly for time's sake. You'll have a clearer picture of what is happening soon enough," Mack said confidently, and then continued.

"Very few individuals have the potential to influence the Force, which to summarize is an energy field that is everywhere and connected to everything, and most experts believe that it is created and sustained by life. Many of the strange things that I am fully aware that you two have been experiencing is a result of the way you were born. You two are amongst those very few individuals that have a certain sensitivity to the Force that I know you have been finding a bit disorienting right now, but I know a little bit about this and I can help you with that if you'll let me. We are now at about the six year old Jedi Youngling education level, once again without the practical applications, but it is time for me to stop and see where your knowledge of history is. Tell me please what the two of you know about Jedi, whether you heard it by word of mouth, or have attained preconceptions that you are uncertain of their source."

Daron's answer was ready immediately. "Having grown up on Telos, and having the history of its destruction followed by its restoration, our formal education included many dry facts without explanation about the Sith War a few thousand years back, which was the time when the Jedi were most prevalent here. These events are a bit too obscure for most civilized planets I'll admit, but when you grow up on a planet that has had its surface destroyed once, you tend to be taught about who did it. So we learned that at that time, certain individuals within the Sith Army had the abilities of the Jedi, and as the Republic battled them many lives were lost in the resulting chaos. We've been taught that both sides were extremist zealots spreading destruction and war in their wake, and that both the Jedi and Sith were all but destroyed in these wars. The Jedi Order was eventually rebuilt since the Republic had won, and for years they were able to defend the galaxy in place of the Republic's army."

Daron continued, "of course everyone knows what has happened a few years back to undo all of that. We were taught that the last generation of Jedi somehow came out different, a bit more corrupt than their predecessors, and orchestrated the Clone Wars to manipulate situations that would give them an opportunity to betray the Senate and rule the galaxy. They failed, and very few survived."

"Go on," said Mack "I want to hear your thoughts on what happened next.

"Well," Daron continued, "the very few remaining Jedi who were loyal to the Empire were tried and dismissed of charges, and the Empire keeps a registry of anybody with their abilities so that they will not be incorrectly identified as a threat. To fill the void the Empire has increased its military strength, and employs a very small number Force- using individuals who have taken the best aspects of most known traditions, and blended them into a practical art that suits the needs of the Empire, and the galaxy as a whole. I am going to go out on a limb here and presume that you are one of the registered adepts with the Empire?"

"No," Mack replied stoically, "I am not. Sylvia, is this what you have been taught as well?"

"More or less, that is about right sir," she replied.

"Okay," Mack went on, "ignorance is not something to be ashamed of, but staying that way is. Now let me tell you the real story…"

**Ch**

Daron and Sylvia sat in astonishment. Mack was giving them all the time that they needed to take it in. It was not every day that someone has their life turned upside down and learns that significant parts of what they have been taught in life that impacts them greatly were built on lies.

Finally Sylvia spoke up, "so you left out the parts about yourself. I understand now why you keep your secret, and why it is of utmost importance that we keep ours, but what is your story, since now we can glean that you were a Jedi for the Republic and not a firefighter?"

"Mack replied, okay then, here is a short version of yet another long story…

I was on Coruscent the day that the Jedi fell. In fact, my death had a quite literal fall involved, so that just might be a bit ironic choice of words."

"Excuse me, your death!?" Daron exclaimed.

"Yes," said Mack, I saw my own end through the force as it was occurring, and my body was put through quite a bit of abuse before my being resuscitated by… a dear friend who was very surprised to see me falling through busy Coruscent traffic. In fact, not to be gruesome, but enough of it was left behind that there was little doubt that I was killed. My friend however, would later die protecting my secret, but that is another story."

"So you were legally dead for a few minutes," Sylvia admitted, "is this how you er, acquired your handicap?"

"I was legally dead, but the Jedi I was in truth did die that day. My dear friend was a physician, who undertook quite an adventure in getting me off of Coruscent. It would be weeks before I next awoke on Nar Shadaa, with my life support system that you see now a permanent part of my being. I had such systemic organ damage, and I had very few functioning glands left in my body that I was now completely dependent on my prosthesis to release the chemicals necessary for me to stay alive. I was very fortunate that I suffered very little brain damage, but my ability to focus had changed drastically."

He moved his collar to the side a few inches to reveal implants, "these keep my brain functioning. They sense when I am in need of specific neurotransmitters and release them when necessary. A medical marvel that they can replicate the function of my no longer working glands, but there is a noticeable lag when they do their work and it greatly affects my concentration, which in turn, affects the way I can use the Force. It is as if the river is still beneath my boat but my oars are damaged."

"But you were able to sense us," Daron stated.

"Yes. My weakened state is not a unilateral slice off of my abilities. Some were affected more than others, but overall I have less power now than the average Jedi Padawan during the height of the Republic would have had. This does not render me completely defenseless of course, but it does mean that I am no longer a Jedi. I am an Exile. Which unfortunately is something we have in common," Mack said gravely.

"Excuse me!?" Sylvia stood as she raised her voice, but inwardly she already knew.

"They are going to send someone for you, they will interview everyone you know and love, and if they do not get sufficient answers they will resort to other methods. And then they will figure out about Daron too. Unfortunately during your finding out about yourself, you did something very public, both of you in fact. Whether someone sensed the events and you two as easily as I, or it was regarded as an oddity that warrants further study, it has in fact been reported and will be investigated thoroughly, that is how the Empire handles such things. It may take them some time, but our actions must be based on the assumption that they are here now. I need to teach you to keep hidden."

"We cannot go home," Daron voiced aloud, "ever."

"If you love your parents and those close to you, then you will not so much as contact them, or give them even a sliver of hope. They need to worry about you and mourn. This is a painful exercise I know, but believe me that it would be far worse for them when the Empire gets to them if they actually had some knowledge that you might be alright. Their grief must be legitimate." Mack told them.

Sylvia's eyes watered a bit, "you two know that I'm doing that thing where I'm pretending to be really strong on the outside, but I'm actually going to cry myself to sleep for the next several nights."

Daron put his arm around his sister, "as long as you understand that I'm doing that thing where I pretend that I am too strong and masculine to ever shed a tear, so any redness noticed around my eyes in the morning will be nothing other than allergies to something that is in the mansion."

Mack gave them a moment and then said, "I empathize with the two of you in every way. My entire career I have trained to be a master of my emotions, and yet I have had to grieve the loss of every friend that I have ever known. While your eyes are dry at this moment I would like to stress the point that the sacrifice you are about to make will in fact save the lives of everybody you know, and allow them to continue in their happiness, albeit they will always have the whole in their lives that was you. Your attitudes about this whole situation have been commendable, and the two of you are displaying the utmost of noble characteristics, and you are a credit to your upbringing."

The only dry eyes in the room after that belonged to the former Jedi.

**Ch**

"Damn."

Than watched the holovid of the sporting event that led to a professional and his coach making a report of a contender with an unfair advantage. "There really is something to this one, and this girl has now gone missing," he voiced internally.

Than took an authoritative stance "inform the local garrison that we will be staying on Telos for a while, Commander. Sergeant, ensure that our ship's docking accommodations are open ended, and arrange quarters for our troop no more than three kilometers from this University. I will be informing their security officials that they will be giving me an office to set up surveillance, and I will be needing each of you assist in conducting interviews and to review data. Corporal, I need you to procure for this mission an astromech droid. We have a lot of work to do."

**Ch **

A week of living in Mack's mansion turned out to be not too much different than a really intense version of taking university courses mixed with religious class. Apparently Mack is able to be away from the cantina for as much time as he sees fit, making his speech about making yourself obsolete make sense. He only needed to leave periodically, and according to Mack this was just for some sort of quick meeting with nefarious types.

"Mack knows everything," Daron jokingly said to his sister. Inside, able to hide his thoughts very well, Daron thought otherwise in a pensive manner.

"I am incredibly impressed as well, not only in what he has taught us about the galaxy in one week's time but also…well…" Sylvia drifted off.

Able to maintain conversation, while trying to sort out whether they were making a mistake, he allowed "Yeah, you're talking about yesterday evening, aren't you?"

"I honestly thought that was one thing I'd be able to do better than him," Sylvia began, "I mean, I know that he admits his powers have diminished greatly, but how amazing must he have been to be able to do what he still can in his current state! When the topic of fencing came up briefly I was not surprised that he quickly was able to produce blades, I mean, he is a former swordsman after all, but how could he possibly move the way he does?"

"Actually, I was more impressed by the part where he stood perfectly still with his defense down and foil in one hand, and was able to redirect your every attack," Daron admitted, while he dwelled on everything he had learned of Jedi from a life on Telos, as well as the prejudices that come from that learning.

"If we were speaking of anyone other than him, I might have taken that as an insult, but he is better than Lyssa. And my former professor still has all of his original organic parts intact."

A silent understanding passed momentarily between them at the mention of life outside of Mack's mansion of how they missed it, and yet this past week's guided meditation exercises and philosophy lessons made it much easier.

"I miss mom and dad", Daron finally said, "but somehow it just doesn't hurt like I'd have thought it should."

"Same here," Sylvia added, "I know they must be in pain not knowing if we are okay or where we are, but when I close my eyes I can see their entire lives as if it were a beautiful view from a high mountaintop, and our part in their lives is but a part of the larger picture with no real beginning or end but is no more or less beautiful than the rest of the picture. That would have sounded completely insane a week ago, but now I find myself eager to explore what my mind can do even more."

"What I have allowed my mind to do in the last week, from Mack's instruction and having used my Kel Dor studies as a stepping stone has been a real eye opener. In fact, to beat you to asking me "how so?" I should tell you that I can sense every small animal on the premises right now. And I know that we can only sense Mack when he makes himself extremely obvious to us during our exercises, I know that a speeder just pulled into the garage and I sense no occupants. That means Mack's home."

"That's very impressive," Sylvia told her brother as she heard Mack entering though an adjacent room.

"Well, the two of you will be very happy to know that your speeder, and some well placed blood from the samples you provided for this task have been placed in such a creative way that forensics investigations will point to many misleading and inconclusive directions that will not lead to you. Not very pleasant to think about of course, but this is why I keep the types of contacts that I do," Mack said triumphantly.

"Is that the real reason that you have the cantina," Sylvia asked.

"Guilty," Mack immediately replied. "Of course I do need a steady income that is a bit more than modest to keep this place, and my activities fully funded."

"So what happens next," Daron asked, you've helped us avoid the inevitable confrontation that would have ensued if we had stayed in the course that our lives were heading, but I doubt you plan to keep us here as butlers, and as generous as you've been I am sure that we would eventually overstay our welcome. I mean, I have noticed that the only help you have here are droids."

"That depends on you. You both are very close to having enough control to where I am confident you would be able to avoid detection by the Empire. You could reinvent yourselves as lead successful lives in whichever star system you see fit," Mack said dryly.

"And do what? We would be working each day with no agenda other than the goals to remain obscure. What kind of life is that," Sylvia proposed in the direction of her brother.

"It's the life I lead. This is very much not what I would have chosen for myself, but it beats the alternative," Mack replied.

"But you've taught us so much, it might seem selfish of us to ask without you offering, but Daron and I have been discussing something while you were out," Sylvia told her mentor.

After a nod of approval from her brother, she continued, "you are very likely the last of the Jedi. From what you have taught us of galactic affairs, the Empire is in a very dark place right now, and it probably will not get better anytime soon. We want to learn from you everything you have to teach us, and in return we will swear an oath to put the needs of the galaxy first, similar to a Jedi oath but something sincere as we'd have come up with it ourselves and not simply spoken it to appease you."

"You know, I believe there is something you two can help me with," Mack told them as he punched a code into the keypad on the door leading to his garage.

**Ch**

"This is poo-doo!" Daron exclaimed as he wiped his greasy forearm on his head, leaving his face just as dirty.

"Still trying to remove the heuristic processor lower retaining bolt?" Sylvia asked as she searched the parts pile nearest her for the hydrospanner that she had just set down.

"These droids are older than the planet itself, Daron told her, as he struggled to hoist the heavy chassis up to a workbench. I can't imagine that Mack plans to rebuild them, I'd think it would be more merciful to scrap them and purchase some still functioning only slightly used models."

"But of course our background of private tutors and enriching competitive schooling tells us… what brother?" Sylvia posed.

"That today is our first official day under his tutelage, and we are likewise being tested, and he is laying the groundwork for our following orders patiently," Daron answered, "I get that, but I still get to complain to you while doing a job that even a jawa would call dirty."

Sylvia smiled at her brother's remark. "At least he left us with instructional holos on how to do this. As far as our first day of Jedi training is concerned, I could've imagined much worse. A few stuck bolts on some very old and rusty droids has nothing on the terrible acrobatics and emotionally challenging activities that would make me cry by the way, which I'd always imagined was involved in becoming a Jedi."

"Mack was very clear last night, he cannot train us as Jedi Knights, as it entails years of on the job training, trials, access to resources and experiences that would be sure to get us caught by the Empire. And of course, he was very nice about this last part, but even though we are gifted as we are with the Force we are just not gifted enough. In his day we would have been fine candidates for the Agricorps or some other aspect of service, however." Daron answered.

"I know," Sylvia responded, "I guess I prepared myself for the worst, or perhaps something dramatic. But it looks to me now that even though we are about to learn highly coveted esoteric secrets, there will be little room for the dramatic."

Mack's presence suddenly could be sensed in the room, and both Sylvia and Daron looked up from their scattering of droid parts. "If all goes well there will be very little adventure or drama in your futures, however the skeptic in me finds this highly unlikely, even if we are to make the safest and most prudent of choices."

Daron stood from his pile of parts, "we are almost done stripping these droids of their parts like you asked us to. Just a little bit more elbow grease and the venting of my frustration on the fine engineers who decided to put parts that fuse together in high temperatures so close to the hottest interior components of these astromechs."

"I have sung that tune, I assure you," Mack replied. "You two take a break for a moment, I have something to show you. Follow me to my library."

"Daron and Sylvia eyed one of the few rooms that they had never seen before. There were thousands of books amongst the dark wood bookcases, as well as ornate tapestries and artwork from several cultures. This was by far the most decorated room that they had seen in the mansion, and so far not a single room had seemed cheap. There was something else too, a bit more elusive, but a very homely and familiar feel that the moment Daron and Sylvia would focus on it, it would elude them.

Mack opened a small mahogany case and produced two cylindrical metal tubes, which he set on a table. Then he turned their attention to the far corner of the room, where three well polished R1 Astromech droids sat powered down, although there were a series of cables and wires between them that linked them at several locations. "What do you see," he asked.

Daron answered first, "those are three R1 model astromech droids, and I can tell that you have buffed out every scratch and repaired every dent because they are ancient, and yet they look great."

Sylvia added "I am going to go out on a limb here and say that this probably has something to do with what you have us working on now."

"Very perceptive," Mack responded. "Let me tell you what I see when I look… About sixty thousand credits worth of state of the art computer and holo storage plus projectors, with relays to create one functioning computer capable of storing two full years of accessible interactive data, encapsulated in three R1 series astromech droids sans all of their original parts except for their wheel motors, their battery cores, and a single tool appendage that can unplug and replug their cables. To summarize, I have a computer that I can instruct to follow me, or meet me at a location. As long as it doesn't have to open a door or think. And one last thing, you were right about the buffing and dent repair, but you left out polish and wax finishing. My luxurious surroundings may be a part of my cover, but I do always insist on clean and having a good shine."

"So you have a supercomputer that cannot think. What's with all the storage space," Sylvia asked, although she had a hint that she knew the answer already.

"Years of my efforts of recalling as many lessons and experiences as a Jedi, as well as philosophies of some of my peers and best friends long past that I've added, that I possibly could fit in such a shell, formatted in such a way that a user can use it interactively and unlock lessons as they progress. I made it to be the best teacher that I could imagine one could have, that doesn't actually have the benefit of having one, or a supplement to an advanced user or mentor that unfortunately would not have the resources that Jedi past have had. I firmly believe that the Jedi will someday return, and there is much that I do not wish to be lost forever. And I did it this way because unlike a holocron, which unfortunately most are either destroyed or in the Emperor's possession, these can be copied and scattered at strategic places in the galaxy where I believe a future student might encounter," he said as he cracked a smile, "now let me show you what I've got on my desk."

**Ch**

Frustration. That is what Than's team was feeling. Forensic evidence points in multiple directions, with the possibility that the subject is either dead, abducted, living off planet, or joined the team and standing in the kitchen.

Than was not feeling this at all. He knew that his subject, this Sylvia NAME was still on Telos, and that there is a strong possibility that her brother, who is also missing is with her. Surveillance has been set up around everybody that they have had even minutes of contact with in the last ten years. The subject, or her accomplice will make a mistake soon, they always do.

"I was absolutely prepared to use extraordinary interrogation measures to get the answers that I want," Than said inwardly, "but these people honestly do not know anything, I can tell that, which makes them way more useful to me as a capture net than the clumps of flesh that they would be if I questioned them aggressively."

Troopers and local Imperial agents were doing their jobs in assisting the investigation, which in Than's opinion stood about a 50/50 chance of yielding results. Than decided that his way was good too as he began to jog alongside the beachfront to clear his mind and seek the answer, and it took him mere moments to figure it out. "I never chastise myself and think why didn't I see this sooner as events must transpire in unexplainable ways before I can get a glimpse through the Force, but the gumshoe detective in me should have thought along this line of reason immediately…"

"Everyone we've interviewed sincerely knows nothing, but intuition tells me that Sylvia NAME is on Telos being helped by somebody that we haven't interviewed or noticed missing, except of course for Daron NAME, who I am certain is with her but is not her sole source of help. So this person is somebody relatively new in her life for her contacts to not think to mention them, but they must have resources and connections in order to have created the chaos with the evidence the way that they had."

Than was sprinting full speed along the beach now, barely cognizant of that fact he kept increasing his stride as he delved deeper within his mind, he was so close he knew to figuring this out that he would not stop. Then it came to him.

He didn't even wait to catch his breath, "establishment owners," he gasped into his comlink, "we need to review every public place that Daron and Sylvia have been to socially, and find the owners immediately. And don't question my reasoning!"

**Ch**

Mack sat cross legged in meditation in his private study. He did not need the Force to hear the sounds of Sylvia's snoring through the walls. He had very recently come to trust the Living Force in ways that he never had as a Jedi. Logic, and years of training tell him that he needs to pack up Sylvia and Daron on an interstellar cruiser, and travel to a location that would be so unpredictable to choose, that they would do so randomly and last minute. His connection to the Living Force however, is telling him that there is something larger at work here and if his role is to be played out to success he must stay here.

"I would never have trained these two before, not just because of their age, but I cannot be sure of their level of commitment. The quick and easy path is even more dangerous of a lure than it was before, and I know it will tempt these two. They do not have years of serenity and Jedi mentorship behind them, I can only hope that their parental upbringing has given them an above average moral compass or they will fail. One, or both of them may betray me and my work. I cannot afford to give them my secret, my great work, at least not yet."

"The Force seems to mysteriously put everything in place at the oddest times. I hadn't expected to find an apprentice, let alone two, but they could be the most advantageous endeavor considering… I won't be too hopeful, but once again that ever persistent Living Force is more in control than I ever was at the height of my Jedi influence on the galaxy. Perhaps these two will complete my work." After all, it was blind unfocused faith in the Force that led me to that dustball of a planet where my old friend showed me this greater focus, and restored my hope in the galaxy. A secret that I will likely die with, but I will do my part while I still draw breath.

**Ch **

Daron distracted himself with a difficult puzzle while levitating three separate objects equally spaced from where he sat in Mack's garage. This is the training exercise that his personal copy of Mack's interactive holos had him practicing, which he never would have thought of, or been able to figure out how to begin without. That was his and Sylvia's reward for their mechanical work, they each built their own droid supercomputer amalgams following Mack's design. They were identical in function, although Mack let them pick out their own paint and finish to give them a personal feel. As stoic as he might seem at times, he has stressed to them both that small details such as flair and personality are very important, especially if they want to stay sane while working very hard and living in hiding.

For days they have been glued to their lessons, training from their instructionals individually at times, and together at others. When he could free up the time, Mack would train with them personally, although lately his business outside the mansion has kept him away and very busy.

Sylvia's instructional had talked her through the fundamentals of training with a stun remote, and she had been very cautious when it came to the practical training, albeit she was very successful at deflecting their attacks. Mack had given them both explicit instructions to exercise extreme caution when handling the lightsabers, but insisted on their continued use so that they could acclimate and feel comfortable being mere inches away from an energy beam that will cut through nearly anything that it come into contact with.

Mack had come home looking a bit more tired than usual, and sat down next to Daron. "You are doing quite well with this exercise. Keep concentrating, I'm going to make it harder."

Mack did.

Two of the three previously levitating garage parts slammed to the ground as Mack threw a handful of pebbles that he must have walked in with, through the space the objects had been.

"Not bad," Mack said as he gestured toward the direction of the pebbles with an open palm, "most people drop everything the first time they experience that."

Daron stared wide eyed in disbelief at the handful of small rocks that Mack had effortlessly recollected with the Force. "I wouldn't have thought that possible. I was starting to feel good about concentrating on a few different objects, but… wow! I find small objects exactly as difficult as the larger and heavier ones"

"That's good to hear you say. Someday you'll have a greater understanding of why I tell you that. I'm going to keep you very challenged this afternoon, Daron. Are you ready to start?" Mack asked as he drew three one in diameter circles on his garage wall.

"I'm as ready as I'm going to be I suppose," Daron asked. "What would you have me do?

"I want you to concentrate on three pebbles, and hold them each in place in those circles that I have made on the wall, Mack replied as his hand disappeared under his garments."

"It's a bit easier with the wall there," Daron said as he continued his concentration.

"Yes it is," Mack replied as his hand reappeared, and with a snap hiss ignited his lightsaber. "That's why you're going to keep them in place as you parry my attacks."

Ten minutes later, Daron was exhaustedand sat in a clump on the floor. Mack had praised him for his efforts, and assured him that he is getting much better. The blade was never his strong point, and he had only minimal participation in athletics prior to his Jedi training, but what he lacked in this area he overcompensated for with his progress in his Force studies. His quick development of the remote viewing skill had him spending almost as much time in cross legged meditation as conscious in the here and now. Mack had warned him that this can be great in a training environment, but to be very careful to remain self-aware. Sylvia is no dummy, but her experience was the inverse. She was progressing in most of her Force studies much more slowly than Daron, but she was a natural with the lightsaber, and took easily to many force techniques that encompassed bodily control.

"Meditate, and recover your strength so we can repeat this exercise within the hour," Mack told him as he scooped Daron's lightsaber from next to him. "I need to borrow this for a few moments."

Sylvia knew that she was next, and she was all smiles as Mack approached.

"How much did you learn from your Echani training about fighting with two blades?" Mack asked her.

"Actually Lyssa insisted that I get very used to it," she replied.

"I was afraid you'd say that, which means you'd eventually have tried it with lightsabers whether I brought up the idea or not. Which means I need to save you the trouble of severing your own arm and do this the correct way with you," Mack said as he handed her Daron's saber.

They kept the intensity level rather low during the opening of their duel, and slowly increased to the usual tempo. Mack's lavender blade easily deflected each of Sylvia's attacks from the green and blue blades which she had been wielding. "You are better than this when you wield but one blade, but I trust you enough to consider using two occasionally if you ever find yourself in a situation where it might give you a tactical advantage."

"I think I prefer using one as well," Sylvia responded as she poised a riposte, "but this is really fun to do sometimes with two."

Mack thought about her use of the word "fun" for a moment, and then continued, "most people are far better with one blade, but some choose to develop a mastery with two. Others who know they are better with one but are okay with two can try it as a gimmick against an unsuspecting opponent, but would be wise to immediately abandon the idea if it does not work for them."

"My job… is to make sure that **you** are never an unsuspecting opponent," he said as he effortlessly took one of her blades from her and pressed his attack with two.

He both verbalized and telegraphed the strengths and weaknesses of the style with each attack, and made it overtly obvious for Sylvia so she could pick up on the lesson.

Mack decided that he could not tell her, nor could he tell Daron, that they had already achieved more in weeks of training than some Padawans of the same age had struggled to learn in his time. His previous comments about their potential were only true from a certain point of view, and did not reflect their raw talent or ambition.

"Ambition," he reminded himself, "can be deadly. And so can fun."

**Ch**

Than packed his luggage in frustration. He knew that he was right, and given time would be able to complete this current mission. There is much more to this than just some girl displaying unique talents then disappearing, but his orders are to file his report and leave this as an open case for local investigators to likely forget about and accumulate dust.

"I have interviewed everyone myself, but I must have overlooked something," he told himself angrily. "I do not like leaving work unfinished, and I have a reputation and a career to worry about."

Than knew better than to question orders however, and he would certainly not repeat the mistakes that some of his predecessors have made. The few that were allowed to live bear deep scars from their corrective actions.

Something had bothered him about the Telos mission from the start, and perhaps this is why, maybe this was to be his one black mark on an otherwise spotless, albeit new resume. Officially he is not being blamed, the Empire acknowledges that sometimes there really is nothing to be found, but Than would not accept that. He knows that failure is not acceptable, and even the appearance of failure could potentially count against him in the future.

His gut was telling him that if he could stay just a short while longer he would get his break and solve this case. He knew as surely as he knows himself that he needed to re-interview, and initiate scrutinizing investigations on all of the ancillary people who are just barely involved in the NAME's lives. "One of these individuals are key and my targets are all still on this planet" he told himself.

"The Empire needs me more elsewhere at this time, so I will report and receive this mission," he conceded.

**Ch**

Daron laid awake in bed. Weeks had turned into months, and his day to day routine had still consisted of training, exhaustion, rest, and repeat. They had ventured out into the acres of natural surroundings surrounding the mansion a few times, but still had not gone out into a public setting since the day they'd arrived. Mack had told them many times how the Sith Lord spoke with the Jedi almost every day during the Clone Wars, and yet they could not sense him until it was too late.

Mack walked confidently in public places, he had explained that boldness and confidence, almost to the point of hubris was actually a vital part of making the technique of masking your presence in the Force work its best. Sylvia and Daron were just not there yet.

Daron could still hear his sister snoring from the other room, although that was not what had been keeping him awake. He had thought of many of his debate topics in the past, and of approaches to understanding logic.

"One can win an argument, and still not be right," he reminded himself as he thought as he considered Mack's story.

"I'm not sure if I distrust Mack, but he is a Jedi from the time when we are to distrust them the most, and I'm not quite sure what to make of that. I'm quite certain I can hide my thoughts from him now, actually I'm quite sure I can hide my thoughts and intentions from anybody now."

Daron continued to mull over the decision that he would have to make. "What if Mack is wrong? He could either be sincerely mistaken, or for all I know he could be one of the very Jedi who did exactly what the Empire claims they did. What if Sylvia and I are actually endangering our parents by not coming forward now? If we did come forward, we could probably go home."

"One thing is certain, I can now aspire to much more than just the Imperial Navy. If the Jedi truly were traitors, and most of them are now gone, than I am one of the last that have been trained in their arts. How valuable the droid computer is, it could be a mentor to me for my entire career! Why would Sylvia and I have agreed to live a life in hiding so quickly? We've been given tasks and rewards the whole time we've been here, Mack is grooming us for something. But what?"

"How can she sleep through her own snoring, she sounds like a birthing Bantha! Maybe there's a Force technique that could help with that. Whatever the future brought," he said inwardly "I have to look out for her best interests. She may be the jock of the two of us, but I am the brain. I have a lot to think about…"

Mack awoke early the next day to attend to outside affairs as usual, and Sylvia woke up shortly thereafter, eager to begin her day's training regimen. Neither she nor Mack had sensed anything out of place, nor did she notice that one of Mack's several antique speeders had gone missing shortly after he left.

As lonely as this place could be at times, she would immediately feel at home whenever she'd ignite a lightsaber and train. The moment that the snap hiss echoed in the garage, the hours would simply melt by, until it was time to either eat or sleep.

Between the specific details displayed in the holos, and the one on one instruction with Mack, Sylvia had been quite adept at each of the major lightsaber forms, although she had not quite picked a favorite. She had even begun to pick up on some of the basics of a form that Mack had said was rather new as of the past few decades, and was one of the most challenging. It wasn't until late morning that she began to wonder where her brother was.

Apparently at some time during her training that morning he had left her a message on her comlink that he was going to be hiking on the compound's grounds, and will return later this evening so not to worry.

Sylvia thought that was a bit odd, but shrugged it off and returned to her training. Knowing her brother he was probably in complete control of whatever he was doing.

Daron had no control of his current situation. He had been moved to a detention area used for interrogation, and informed that somebody would be with him shortly. That was several hours ago. The security measures were far more intense than he would have expected they would be when he turned himself in at the local Imperial garrison.

He slowed his breathing and relaxed. "Everything will be fine, I know that I am doing the right thing. Soon Sylvia and I will be home and everything will be made right."

Daron felt an inner peace about the entire situation. He had brought as evidence his astromech-computer amalgam, the lightsaber, and his testimony. What he would not mention however, is that he had liberated Mack's library of their astromech-computers and hidden them in a very safe place, so that if his own materials are not returned to him, he would be sure to keep a copy.

Sylvia had never seen Mack bothered by anything, but the seriousness in his tone when he interrupted her training told her that something was very wrong.

"We need to leave right now," Mack told her in no uncertain tones.

Sylvia deactivated her lightsaber, "

**Ch**

Sylvia did not recognize the type of shuttle that Mack had led her to, but it had the familiar feel of being outdated, and yet rebuilt to such a degree that it probably works better than most new models.

"This is my personal transport," he told her as he punched commands into the navicomputer. "Stay here, it will take off in two hours and take you somewhere safe… whether your brother and I are on it or not".

"But…"

"No time for buts," he cut her off "I am going after him and you aren't coming with me. If we do not make it in time we will either find another transport… or we won't be coming at all."

"I cannot fly this thing! And I don't know where it's going! This is crazy, and if my brother is in danger I need…"

Mack cut her off again. "Please be patient Sylvia, search your feelings, I cannot protect the two of you, and if I bring you into danger than I would have to. I am going after Daron, and believe me when I tell you that I am going to have some help. As far as this trip is concerned, this ship has taken this route many times and the autopilot knows it well. It has all of the proper credentials and protocols to land and somebody will be waiting for us on the other end. I had to plan for the eventuality that I might take this trip injured someday and I laid out the itinerary to be automated once initiated."

"So this might be goodbye," Sylvia responded with a bit of grief I her voice.

"My dear," Mack interjected, "at my age any second might be goodbye. This is all very sudden, and we will plan to see each other shortly, but I want you to know that I am very proud of your maturity and what you have accomplished…"

"Don't!" She interrupted, "it'll sound too much like goodbye. We know what might happen here, let's wish for the best, and may the Force be with us all.

**Ch**

Daron had a sudden sense of foreboding. It wasn't the situation, it was… BOOM!

He stood straight up in his interrogation room and could hear the sound of blasterfire from elsewhere in the facility. He considered for a few moments his options and realized that they are few. He paced for a few moments and then decided to sit cross legged on the table, opening himself up to the force, trying to find out more about the present situation. After a few moments he had a very good understanding of who was where, where they were heading, and what their objectives were. There were three separate squads of intruders, each had detonation charges, and only one had acted thus far.

"They're here for me" he whispered "but they're wrong. About a few things really."

Coming out of the trance Daron realized, "whichever side I help will be the victor. What a unique opportunity to show my loyalty to the Empire."

Breaking out of the cell was not necessary. Daron hit the comm switch and alerted the officer on the other end "I believe I have some information on this present attack which you might find helpful."

"You were supposed to wait until my arrival," Mack scolded at the aged mercenary leader as he ran hurriedly towards the group outside the compound.

"Couldn't. Compromised" the leader said quite matter of fact with a very gruff voice.

Mack knew that wasn't true. He knew that using mercenaries was always a risk, and unfortunately for him he hadn't sensed that this particular group's anti-Imperial sentiments would outweigh their sound judgment, and the opportunity for them to be paid to hit an Imperial target would be too much for them to show restraint."

Mack knew that this man would not be helpful, but if he lives through this he will most definitely have some carefully selected words to this man's supervisor, who just happens to be a crimelord that is absolutely in love with Mack's cooking. He needed to get inside quickly and do what he needs to do, and let these banthas do their work. They do provide a great distraction after all.

The second squad of mercs had just detonated their charges from their nearly perfect hiding spot, and were met by an overwhelming force of troopers immediately upon entering the compound.

"Okay, you have some credibility," the Imperial commander told Daron as he stood in the center of the room with his hands in binders. He quickly barked orders over the comm for that group to meet up with the main fighting force (which he knew was currently losing) and assist. "So where is this third group that you mentioned coming from?"

Mack moved with ease throughout the compound. There was plenty of fighting to be had, but he would have no part in it if he had no need to. He could sense Daron's location and was moving towards it as quickly as he could, although the physical strain of being back in a "mission mode" had already begun to take its toll. He had to force himself to slow several times in order to give his chemo- release prostheses time to reregulate his body chemistry, and he found it very difficult to keep focus during these brief periods. Mack was no stranger to missions such as these, although it had been several years and he was quite unsettled by the amount of focus he needed to keep internally. "That," he reminded himself, "would be at the expense of your surroundings and everything else that goes on around you." He refused to be frustrated that what used to be very easy for him now required the utmost concentration and taxed him very physically, and he felt that he was very much correct in no longer considering himself a Jedi. He might know some secrets of the former order, but fate has humbled him and left him in such a state that he would not be worthy of passing even the most lenient of Jedi trials.

Daron focused on what might be the third wave of the mercenary's attack, but he was not able to predict it. Instead, he felt as though he was losing a vital part of his focus on the situation. Instinctively he felt as though he should search for Mack's presence, but came up empty. "That could mean anything," he told himself inwardly as he felt the sway of battle going against the favor of his new Imperial allies. It was technically their job to protect him, but he would do everything he could to prove himself valuable, he reminded himself as he listened to the station commander bark orders over the comm.

Daron could sense the inevitable before the situation began to unfold. The mercs would earn their money this day, as the battle is moving towards the one entrance of the secure control room and what is left of the Imperial forces were consolidating here. Blasterfire could be heard much closer than before and the commander and his small entourage of officers began arming themselves with the control room's cache of blaster rifles which they held clumsily, betraying the notion that they had previously believed they would never need to use them. "Pick your poison, Patriot," the commander said to him over his shoulder. "In this emergency situation I am more than willing to arm you with a blaster or the weapon that you have surrendered to us, whichever you feel better prepared to fight with should the terrorists breach our defenses.

Daron knew that he had better not take too long to think this over. Having had spent a few summers as a junior cadet to prepare for a future Imperial career, he knew that he could handle the basics of a blaster, but as the hallway was full of well-trained experts who were currently losing, and this room included a few individuals that were probably at about his own skill level, so perhaps the weapon that he had spent the last few months getting to know would be the best chance to increase his survival odds. He chose his lightsaber, and as the sounds of battle drew nearer he and the entire room tensed in preparation for an attack to come through their only entrance.

"That would have been a great place to put a blast door," he said aloud without really meaning to let his thoughts escape.

"It would only slow an enemy down," a lieutenant reminded him, I would've opted for an emergency exit.

Daron had a sudden flash of brilliance. As the blasterfire drew closer the familiar _snap hiss_ of his weapon was unheard as he ignited it, but with a gesture towards the back wall he asked, "and where exactly would you put this emergency exit of yours?"

The commander who was seemingly overwhelmed with preparation did not miss this new development, and quickly interrupted "ceiling!" as he gestured towards a back corner of the room.

As Daron made work of creating a small opening, he spotted that the commander had already been holding what he believes to be a thermal detonator device. Had he been planning a last stand scenario in this room?

Having no intention of dying in this room, he made haste jumping straight up through the hole he created into what looked like some sort of conference room. Looking briefly through the opening in which he had just come through, he could see the commander setting the thermal detonator device as a trap on the door, as it occupants were scrambling to hoist themselves up towards safety. Mack never trained him specifically for this, although his intelligence was nagging at him and telling him that he should wait for everyone to make it to this room, and risk themselves leading the way out, rather than to take charge and lead himself.

That was the last thing he remembered before the explosion.

**Ch**

Mack had been moving through the facility with relative ease, although was not moving as fast as he would have liked. He felt as if he were an expert podracer who currently was piloting a broken down speeder, although he'd hated to think of his body as such. Having only flashes of true intuition in the way that he was used to, he felt as though he would indeed be leaving this facility and intervene in whatever Daron was thinking just in time, although he could not focus specifically on the manner in which they would be leaving. He had hoped together and safely.

He had positioned himself directly below the command center, and hesitated. "Wrong place, wrong time," he thought, not really in words but in feeling. It was more of a reaction than a conscious choice, and he opened himself to the force as he dashed several meters in a burst of speed in the direction from which he had just come.

The explosion that rocked his surroundings had prevented him from taking his next few breaths, and he found himself lying on his side in debris, fighting to stay conscious.

Daron's ears were ringing. Perhaps the commander made an error setting the trap, or perhaps the mercenaries had triggered it before they could all get clear, but a quick assessment as he took in his surroundings told him that he and two of the lieutenants were the last surviving Imperials in this compound from the command center. He did not have time to draw upon the force to try and sense the location of mercenaries or any Imperial soldiers that might remain throughout the compound, he felt that the best course of action was to exit the greatly damaged conference room which could collapse at any moment to the level below and flee as quickly as possible with his new allies following his orders.

He found it easy to give orders, and it was as natural for him to communicate with them at full sprinting speed as it would seated in an office discussion. They had never declared him leader, in fact Imperial directives would dictate quite the opposite, but there was no voiced objection as he led them through the compound.

Without having fully shaken off the effects of the explosion, Daron was not actively trying to sense opposition, but kept his lightsaber ignited and held the forward point position of the group, ready to react to whatever they encounter.

He instructed his entourage to support him by laying down suppressive fire if they were to encounter any resistance. In both instances when they happened upon small four man merc squads, they never got the chance. Daron moved too quickly.

Having single handedly cut down ten enemies in the last five minutes, Daron realized that this is the first time he had gauged his newly trained abilities against opponents other than training aides and sparring partners. Having previously felt his combat ability to be sub par when compared with Mack or Sylvia, he was pleasantly surprised at his performance, and realized that he felt a longing to have his sister fight at his side. That desire would be addressed later, he decided, first he needed to survive this, then he could gain prestige with the Empire and clear their names. There would be a place for her for sure, he was no traitor.

When they had reached the speeder bay, the lieutenants ran to a patrol vehicle and started it while Daron maintained security.

Maintaining security in this case consisted of cutting down what he would later come to find out was the command element of the mercenary group that had relocated to this position to make a fast escape with the mercs that would survive to make it here. It was not intended that they lose anybody in this mission except perhaps a few unimportant recruits, but as fate would have it, only one made it to this location. The man who hired them.

Mack was only just barely able to catch up with Daron, and the effort he had expended had left him greatly in need of a few moments to catch his breath.

Two men from a speeder had open fire, and his redirection of their shots left them critically wounded.

Rather than confronting a calm and reasonable Daron, Mack found himself immediately parrying a barrage of blows that came in far quicker than the attacks he had known from him. They were not exactly precise or well timed, but in his current state of tunnel vision, just keeping them at bay was proving to be a challenge.

Daron had felt a surge of adrenaline during the entire escape from the command center, and he refused to let it go as it had guided him thus far. Basking in the power that fueled his body and supplied his mind with correct answers, he knew from the moment that he saw Mack that he would attempt to trick his mind with Jedi lies, and must attack with a fury before he gets a chance to speak. Mack had tricked him into thinking that they were friends once, and he could not give him the chance to do so again. His, and Sylvia's future chances of freedom and seeing their parents again depended on his not giving up, and so he passionately poured every ounce of effort that he could muster into allowing the force to fuel him. That was his focus, the part with the lightsabers was just a part of the equation that seemed to take care of itself.

Mack had to accept an unfortunate truth. He was skilled enough to fight through this, and even in his handicapped state he could have rendered Daron ineffective had he been fresh. The reality of the situation is that the chemicals stored in his neuroprosthesis were nearing depletion, and the waste products in his system were building up faster than they could be filtered.

Later in quiet reflection, Daron would recall that he felt fear in this encounter. Not just a sense of being afraid, but a true sense of one's back being to the wall with the only small chance of survival being to lash out against insurmountable odds.

Mack had already been opened up to the force as fully as he physically could, but now that he knew this physical body was about to be forfeit he opened himself completely in meditation to the living force in a way that he had only recently learned. He felt detached from the present, and his body was no more important to him than a tool in his garage or a sack full of supplies. Where he was he could view his entire life at once, as if it were a view that he was overlooking from a tall peak, with the moments in the hangar bay being no more consequential to him than any other moment previously lived in his life.

He did not have any regret for getting his last words out to Daron. Those seeds have already been planted and those lessons learned. His work was done, and his life had been a good one. Before the inevitable moments before his destruction he could see the force the way that he had in the past, and he could see that his work in restoring Jedi teachings, and his two new apprentices, had very powerful lines flowing in a multitude of directions that intersect with other powerful lines. There would be other stories to tell, but they would be greatly influenced by his life's work, his great secret, that others will soon be discovering, and will eventually be a cornerstone in the rebuilding of the Jedi.

Daron was not quite sure which was the first of his blows that broke through Mack's defenses as each attack came in multiples, but at some point all that was left of Mack was his clothing, his lightsaber, and a variety of hardware that Daron correctly assumed had mostly been inside his body. He had never heard of one's flesh fading away, but he was certain that Mack was gone, and would give it no further thought as he needed to turn his attention towards evacuating the dying lieutenants, who along with any video surveillance that may have survived were the only witnesses to his undeniable patriotism.

**Ch **

Sylvia felt no surprise when Mack did not return. Somehow when he left she knew what would happen. She held back tears for as long as she could, relied on every Jedi teaching that she had absorbed over the preceding months, but when she could sense both Mack and her brother through the force momentarily, and then felt Mack's sudden end she knew what had happened.

She had a decision to make. Stay on the shuttle and let it take her to some unknown location, or step off.

"What then?" she asked herself.

"I will have to see where this durasteel box will take me," she answered as she decided to trust in whatever it was that Mack was trusting in."

She finally allowed herself the tears that she had been fighting as the automated systems took her into orbit, and then into hyperspace.

She wept for Mack, for her brother, for her parents, and as irrational as it might seem for her pet that had died when she was eight. Everything that she had been holding back had come out, and at some point she fell asleep curled up on the cold hard floor of the passenger compartment.

Than decided that his former Jedi Masters were correct about only one thing. He needed to trust in the force more so than he did. Having left for Telos immediately after being informed that a certain fugitive that had come forward, he had arrived about two hours after the attack. He had such a strong desire to remain behind and find the fugitives himself, and yet the situation that has unfolded he admitted to himself probably would not have done so in the same way had he been here, in fact the Jedi might not have revealed himself, or he might have even been killed. The entire terrorist attack took less than fifteen minutes, in part because they knew the next closest station's response time would be approximately thirty minutes, and in part because it was unsuccessful in its true mission, which Than knew was no coincidence. A Jedi was there.

The first field grade officer on the scene responded properly, locking down the facility and satisfying the public by releasing official statements regarding the destructive nature of the terrorists, that the Empire was able to thwart them albeit at the cost of the lives of many great men, the danger of rebellions and the need for recruitment. After all, that is what they were trained to do.

Than had a very strong suspicion as to the identity of the Jedi after reviewing remaining security holos and examining his equipment. He had two wounded officers to interview when he makes it to the medbay, and Daron NAME, who was being cooperative and surrendered himself to the first Imperial presence that he encountered. "The Telos investigation is back on," he spoke into a comlink to be relayed from his ship, "and can already be labeled a success even before the capture of Sylvia NAME, who we will know more about after interviewing this Daron."

Sylvia awoke to a change in momentum that she could feel. Nothing about her situation had changed, and yet somehow she felt much better. Although she could feel almost certain that she was headed to some top secret enclave where she would be doomed to loneliness, gloom, and depression more than the Empire, there was a sense of calm that could only be described as a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"You're being silly," she said aloud as she rose to her feet and moved towards the cockpit.

She did not recognize the planet below, although she could see that it was mostly comprised of ocean. She awaited a communication on the console which never came, and the ship descended through the clouds and headed to a location that as far as she could tell was nowhere that the ship could land.

Holding back the urge to attempt to operate sensor equipment that she did not know how to use, she watched as the console transmitted a short burst of codes, and then remained hovering in place for one of the longest minutes of her life.

Just barely perceptible on the water was a metallic disk only slightly larger than her transport that she could swear was not there before, and she tensed as the ship began to move again, lowering itself towards the disk. Still no communication.

She steadied her nerves sitting alone in silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the engines as they lowered the ship onto the platform and then powered down. "When are they going to hail this ship, or am I supposed to be contacting them? If Mack spent months preparing me to fight Sith Lords that I'll never meet, but not preparing me to properly disembark a ship I …" she trailed off as she realized what she was saying.

A forcefield that Sylvia could swear looked like a flexible bubble formed around the platform and the ship, as the entire contraption began to lower beneath the surface of the water. The sun penetrated very deep in this clear water, and a variety of dull colored, sickly looking oceanic wildlife was visible as she descended many more meters than she could keep track of, until suddenly the environment began to lose much of its pigment, and eventually she was surrounded in complete darkness.

Rather than be concerned with events that she had no control over, she decided to relax and meditate on her surroundings and she what life she can sense. "Something is wrong with this planet, it's starving!" she said reflexively.

"I feel dirty, and not from the trip," she thought inwardly as she decided that she would not extend her senses again until she knows more of what is going on.

After several minutes had passed, a soft glow began to be visible, and the platform was lowered into what looked like a giant semisphere bubble on the ocean floor that was connected to a series of like bubbles.

Through the viewport she could see a figure awaiting her, or possibly Mack's arrival. "Wait, I know this one," she whispered excitedly to herself as she prepared to leave the shuttle, "that is a Gungan!"

**Ch**

Daron knew that despite the lavish comfort of the officer's quarters he was resting in, he was a prisoner. That would change soon, he thought inwardly, the Empire needs to sort a few details out first. That would come when-

He felt the force presence hit him in a wave as the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a middle aged man in an Imperial Uniform of which he wore no insignia.

With him stood only two trooper escorts, which meant either that they thought Daron could be trusted or this man can take care of himself.

The man instructed Daron to take a seat and told the troopers to wait outside as he began to pace back and forth, only occasionally looking at Daron.

Daron, having done as instructed, didn't need Jedi training to tell him to wait until being spoken to, and began to size up the other man as best as he could. His force presence felt darker than he, Sylvia, or Mack's, albeit somewhat empty, as if he were not all that he should be. Daron knew from his own learned techniques that it is possible to fake or mask one's presence, but he instinctively felt that this was not the case here. Finally the man spoke.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Than. I perform investigations on behalf of the Empire. It is a pleasure to meet you, Daron."

"Likewise," he responded.

Than continued, "in a few moments I will begin interrogating you regarding an ongoing Imperial investigation, and on the matters related to the earlier attack. First I would like to simply speak with you off the record, one Imperial citizen to another."

"This guy's good," Daron thought, obviously this is part of the interrogation, "yet he has subtly complimented and made his subject feel a sense of camaraderie. As the subject I am quite impressed." Daron nodded.

"Tell me of this man who came after you, and how you got caught up in this situation," Than said matter of factly.

Daron had not expected to start in such a place, but was ready for it. Shielding his thoughts as he was trained, so that only his words would be evaluated he began. "The man is Mack from Mack's Famous Cantina. I don't know very much about his past, but I believe that he was a part of the Jedi rebellion. He had lured my sister and I into his mansion lair, and we were not free to leave. He attempted to manipulate us although once I truly began to suspect who he was and what he was doing I came forward. My sister is innocent in all of this, she has been tricked by this man, in fact I would say kidnapped although it will take time for her to see that truth."

Than interjected, "I've investigated the attack on the Imperial station, and interviewed the other survivors. It appears that not only were you integral in the station's defense, you defeated the Jedi traitor with your own Jedi weapon. Tell me more of that.

Daron took a deep breath. He realized that Than was continuing the same interrogation tactic, and he knew that his choice of words would be critical. "When I say that he manipulated us, I believe that he was grooming us for something, I am not quite certain of what, but I believe it to be similar to cult mentality brainwashing. While we had almost become victims, we did learn enough about his arts from him to be able to defend ourselves. As it happens, it was him and his mercenaries that I ended up defending myself against."

"If what you tell me is true, and I sense no dishonesty in you, than I believe your sister will attack the first troopers that approach her at the mansion out of fright. You are coming with us," Than declared.

Suddenly Daron became aware of something he hadn't realized before. "You won't find her at the mansion," he stated as his mental guards dropped.

"Well then," Than sat down suddenly interested, "let us begin this interrogation."

_**CH+Interlude (Maybe a pretty picture lol)—Nine Months later-**_

**Ch. **

"Than did things differently," Daron concluded during one of the multitude of missions that he'd been working with him.

Daron had been grateful that Than had agreed to mentor Daron in his new roles in Imperial Service, although sometimes he wondered if Than was in fact the best suited to be instructing a pupil. Quite confident that he was more than ready to fulfill the obligations as an Inquisitor, Daron could not help but notice the sloppiness in Than's methods and instructions.

For starters, Than was drunk. They were undercover trying to find an agent from an outlawed political party on Corellia, while Than, Daron, and two plain clothes Sergeants drank like Banthas in the Cantina nearest to where their lodging.

Daron was quietly enjoying the training opportunity. Keeping up nearly drink for drink with the others, he was concentrating on isolating the toxic substances before they metabolized in his body, and allow them to pass through on his next trip to the fresher, while maintaining attention enough in the here and now to remain social appearances.

Than did no such thing. For a moment Daron allowed himself to sense through the Force just how composed Than truly was, and his answer scared him a little.

Than was looking for a fight tonight, and it had nothing to do with the case that they were working on. Some unlucky soul in this Cantina was about to have a very bad night.

As Daron walked off for a moment to get some fresh outside air, his slightly off balanced gait and lack of feeling in his lips revealed to him that he has been only moderately successful in tonight's training.

Having a moment alone to ponder what the night would unfold, he pretended to type messages into his comlink while sizing up the crowd.

"The Sergeants will go along with anything," Daron thought to himself, "but Than will have to have a reason."

"One of the oddities about that man, is that he must truly believe that he is in the right, and often finds himself doing more good for selfish reasons, than many do-gooders could ever accomplish on their own. Tonight's target will be guilty of… something," Daron thought, "although it will doubtfully be the charges he eventually will be locked up for after receiving a customary beating from Than."

Daron suddenly shuddered coldly. Having been casually scanning surface thoughts as well as the current ebb and flow of the present, he realized the moment that he touched it that he had better get back inside and to his table. "Tonight will be messy," he realized as he could barely contain his own sudden uprising of hate towards this individual. This one might actually deserve what is coming to him tonight."

If Daron had any doubts that he were the only member of his group that were sober, they were dispelled the moment he sat back down at the table and observed the condition of his companions. Luckily, a few well timed comments and the perpetuity to keep drinking, kept the group completely unaware that Daron was different. Not a good trait for investigators.

Daron forced himself to enjoy the next two hours, as he waited patiently for Than to notice what he already had. He made a game out of touching Than's mind to learn something new that he'd never been told and then quickly retreating the mental invasion before Than could notice. This was one of Daron's favorite pass-times, as he hasn't had a good training partner since his sister, and he has never been caught by the unsuspecting Than.

His thoughts dwelled for a moment on Sylvia. He missed his sister, and just as soon as she is found he will be sure to help her to be exonerated of any wrong-doing. He knew all too well the cultish brainwashing that she had endured at the hands of the former Jedi, and how she will need him to bring her back to sanity. "Perhaps it was the lifelong ambition of service and devotion to the Empire fostered by a good upbringing, that had allowed me to purify my mind when it was needed. Sylvia's a good girl, but she's always been more of a free-spirit," Daron said to himself as he realized that his moments of inward reflection were coming to an end for the night.

Than was noticing.

Daron considered himself superior when reading strangers, but Than would do this one thing, where he could become completely inebriated and then put himself into the mindset of a victim, and the results of what he would see were impressive.

Daron felt fear coming off a Than in waves, although it was not his own.

The fear had a distinct feminine quality to it, and Daron knew that Than was living the moments of fear experienced by victims of one of the patrons in the cantina. Some of them were final moments, but all were horrifying. Than would open himself up to much more of it than Daron, and he sat wordlessly, until he reaches the point at which…

Anger burned like hyperdrive plasma in Than's eyes, and he quietly eyed the establishment to determine the source of his visions. This was Than's weakness, he'd never mastered some of the more basic methods of control, and he'd averaged about 50/50 in successfully identifying the target. Daron would again prove his usefulness.

"Orange jumpsuit," Daron muttered as Than immediately eyed understanding.

Usually Than did not like to have help when he did such things, although he has in the past had Daron take the lead as a training opportunity.

Tonight was not one of those nights. The two Sergeants were armed to the teeth with concealed weapons, and both Than and Daron were members of a very small select group of individuals in the galaxy who are allowed to carry lightsabers.

The patrons in this cantina would not see that sort of spectacle this night, rather they would tell tales that are much more akin to the old martial arts holodramas that come in and out of popularity based on the current trends. Than walked up to a group consisting of three human males and two Nikto, and said something to the group that seemed to immediately offend them.

That was Than's M.O., Daron concluded, he'd always goad them into attacking him which made him immediately appear the underdog. That of course, was a deception.

By the end of the night, there would be a report of five citizens attacking an Imperial agent who defended himself in an amazing display of hand to hand tactics. Witnesses would refer to it as exceptionally brutal, evidenced by the grievous injuries incurred on the group of which three out of the five would be pronounced dead on the spot and the other two would later die from their injuries while receiving medical care. Justice.

Official Imperial reports would be filed with the local garrison by the two very same Sergeants that came with Than and Daron, which would in turn be signed by the very same Agent and Junior Agent respectively.

Surely Than did things differently, but Daron had been learning quite a bit.

**Ch.**

Sylvia had just finished an exhausting day of instruction. As sort of a role reversal from her time prior to her arrival at the Gungan enclave, she had become a teacher rather than a student. This had been her choice. When she arrived there were many roles which she could have filled, but she really felt like she'd wanted to step up and be a mentor.

Her day to day activities were mostly full of classroom based instruction of scholarly subjects to Gungan children. Here favorite age group was the very young podlings who were just beginning to learn the basics of language skills and mathematics, but she also taught those who were nearing adulthood and would soon become active members and begin productive work in the Enclave.

There were two heroes of the Enclave that were directly responsible for relocating nearly an entire city to a secret location and liberating it from the Empire. One was Mack, which is the reason why Sylvia was so warmly received and well respected, and the other was the Administrator of the facility Jar Jar Binks. Binks had been an Imperial Senator but was now considered a Fugitive.

Sylvia had been left a verbal account of the story in a holorecording from Mack, and the details were extraordinary. Even more extraordinary, Sylvia considered, is the other title that Administrator Binks holds.

Having believed that the majority of Mack's work was housed in his mansion, Sylvia was shocked to learn that a functional Jedi library, as well as a nearly empty replica of vital parts of the former Jedi temple to include council chamber was located in the underwater enclave. Figuring the number of years and what Mack had accomplished both here and on Telos, she could not envision when the man had found time to sleep. Mack had told Binks that if anything were to happen to him, than Binks would be the first non Force-Sensitive in history to be not only a member of the Jedi council, but to be the head of the council.

Binks understood that continuity was very important to Mack, and that somebody trusted absolutely must be at the helm until somebody else could relieve them. Whether it were to be a talented up and coming Jedi in this generation, or somebody centuries later that could stand against the Sith, this facility was to become an immediate resource for them and adopt them into the Jedi lineage of the Old Republic. Sylvia did not quite understand Mack's reasons for this any better than Binks did, but in the few instances where Mack would insist on something he was taken very seriously.

As Sylvia retired to her quarters from what was actually a stressful day of teaching, she dwelt on how she found her time her fulfilling and rewarding. If you'd told her just a little over a year ago that she would be employed full time as a teacher in a secret underwater city that is mostly comprised of an alien species she would have giggled. If you'd told her that she actually likes it than she would have burst into outright laughter on the spot.

She managed almost every day to find time to train, and also had found many of the Gungans quite easy to get along with, and had developed close knit friendships with quite a few close to who own age. There was even one who she very much enjoyed the company of, and thinking about it made her cheeks blush a little.

She and Daron both had significant others from time to time which they would help each other hide from their parents, but it was different not having to hide it.

That thought made her miss her parents. And her brother.

**Ch**

Daron ran in place in the barracks and closed his eyes. Nobody thought anything was out of place, in fact the few troopers who weren't napping, playing games of chance, or communicating to loved ones via comlink were exercising themselves.

What Daron had been doing was vastly different however. Being the only Force Sensitive in the immediate vicinity, he felt it was safe to try an exercise that Than had instructed him in.

"Than's methods really are inferior," Daron thought to himself as he reminded himself to lift his knees all the way to his chest as he ran, "but if I don't at least try everything that might be of use then I really can't take myself seriously as a student of the Force, no matter where the lesson originates."

"I must be doing something right," Daron almost said aloud, "as his perceptions quickly changed his usual to something much more trance-like.

Daron recalled during his college studies in which he began to notice some sort of "cosmic discrepancy" about himself, that some practitioners of the higher forms of the meditative arts would take mind altering substances to feel like they were on some sort of higher plane of existence, which of course at the time Daron believed to be rubbish.

Now he was not so sure of the rubbish, although he was fairly certain that he would not need to imbibe any of the herbs and strange substances that the arts sometimes required from there lesser talented practitioners.

Daron didn't exactly see visions or dream dreams, rather, he lost about two hours of time.

"I'm not exactly sure that's what is supposed to happen" he mumbled to himself, realizing that from everyone else's perspective he simply worked out for a bit longer than usual, but not anything too extraordinary to attract notice. He was drenched in sweat, and mildly disappointed that he had been doing so well and then failed. Or so it had seemed.

That night he dreamed very confusing dreams. At the start, he was walking side by side with Mack, and discussing the fate of the galaxy as nonchalantly as if they were discussing a recipe change at Mack's cantina. It was briefly noted that Mack did not blame Daron for his little "misunderstanding" and that the two of them would be fine. He kept asking about his sister, but it was as if Mack never heard the question. Daron could feel emotionally fulfilled from their conversation, although he was not able to recall the majority of it. At some point, Mack simply faded away.

Daron recalled two separate and distinct portions of the dream. In one, he was much darker than he is now, and he was training an army of dark hooded members with malicious intents that did not bother Daron one bit. In the other, he sat cross legged in a peaceful forest instructing on topics that students seemed eager to learn. There was a sense of calm in this one. One detail that did not escape the notice of Daron, is that in both he was carrying Mack's lightsaber as his own, which he had not seen since their last fateful meeting.

When Daron woke, he thought about how vivid his dreams had been at times, and he felt as if it were not truly over even though he knew for sure that it was. It almost felt as if Mack were walking with him and yet just not quite hearing his questions.

"There is no time to dwell on this," Daron told himself as he readied himself for the day.

One thing that his thoughts kept going back to however, was what came of Mack's belongings, and more important, the training programs that Daron had always intended to go back to at some point before life got so busy.

Still, this mission is one he'd been looking forward to. They were going to be performing a public relations detail on Telos. He was going home.

**Ch**

Sylvia felt right at home. She sank into an oversized lounge chair in Jar Jars estate quarters, enjoying appetizers prepared by his wife who as it turned out was a fantastic cook and even better host.

Charmine Binks seemed to flow through the room with a gentle grace carrying small plates with delicious and deliberate small cuts of fish and spices. Sylvia could see that she's had experience being the wife of a senator, from the ease at which she could make guests feel at ease and offer them pleasantries, then seamlessly move into deep and meaningful conversation at will, and leave the serving to the staff. This was a smaller, less formal occasion however, so the only staff tonight were her children who were being taught responsibility with their chores.

As Sylvia mingled with the other guests, all of whom were Gungan, she was reminded of how generally happy everyone here really were. Telos did not seem gloomy and dismal when she lived there, but now that she has seen something other than it, a society untouched by the Empire, did she realize what a rare gem this place was.

Sylvia was feeling generally chatty tonight. She found herself mingling with almost everyone, sometimes with Renton Binks, her favorite male friend by her side, and sometimes without. They weren't exactly affectionate in front of others, but everyone knew that they were romantically involved.

Jar Jar had been limping with a cane today, which was telling Sylvia that he was having one of his bad days. She noticed that he was using his off hand with his cane, as the biceps on his other arm seemed to twitch and relax at random intervals.

Sylvia loved Jar Jar, and not just because she was dating her son, or because he had been friends with Mack.

She and Jar Jar were the two who knew Mack best, and since he had been such an influence to them both, really a role model as well, it was easy for the two to bond quickly over their friend in common and the loss they both felt. Mack had been far better than usual at leaving behind directions and wisdom to be used after he had departed. Jar Jar had special instructions and study material, and Sylvia was extremely well set up as well. In some ways Sylvia filled the void in Jar Jar that Mack once had a place, and Jar Jar vice versa was the same for her.

Binks casually limped over to help his wife for a few moments with dirty dishes and empty drink glasses, and Sylvia wished for a moment that she could at least temporarily unlearn part of her training. He really did not need to help in the small ways in which he did, of course he did so out of love, but if anyone beside Sylvia knew the true extent of physical pain that he was in they would tell him to take a seat. Without even trying to sense it she could feel the pain coming off of him in waves.

That's why he kept going, he had explained to her the first time they'd discussed his condition. The moment he allows his ailment to stop him from living a normal life, which includes helping others in even small ways, it would be time to retire. Sylvia respected that, and she suspected that it's these character traits that Mack initially saw in Binks.

Sylvia was casually discussing a small social sporting event that she would be taking part in in the near future with a group of enthusiastic Gungans near to her own age, but she was still watching Jar Jar out of the corner of her vision, and she appreciated the irony that he had once pointed out to her.

"All mesa life, mine been very very clumsy, and mesa thinkin this just normal. When mine goin' to Coruscent to work with Senate, de doctors saying mesa got da neuromuscular disease, and they make it all better with treatment. Desa saying to me, I need treatment every year, or it get bombad worse! No treatment down here, but the days mesa feelin no pain, mesa feeling very clumsy. The days mesa feeling awful, no clumsy!"

"That's believable," Sylvia thought to herself without missing a beat discussing their group's topics, and watched him carry a stack of plates without dropping them, and remembering that some days you can't trust him to hold a single cup for more than a few short moments. She giggled inappropriately, unnoticed by the group, by her memories of what was not just a spilled drink or two in the past, but impending disasters that did more damage to a room than her failed levitation attempts, by his unmistakable talent for completely unwarranted and accidental disaster.

She watched as he finished the shared tasks with his wife, and moved easily into another conversation in the room. He had told her that his clumsiness used to get him in trouble, so far as to even get him banished from civilization (although that's surely an exaggeration), but here he is so beloved that when he has a flare up it is taken in stride. It is not an uncommon sight for very young podling children to approach him and take things out of his hands and walk alongside him.

**Ch**

"Darth Vader is one of the nicest people that I have ever met," Daron said to Than while nursing a cup of morning stim caf.

Seated casually in one of Daron's favorite cafes in his old neighborhood on Telos, the two discussed their interactions with the few force users in the Empire's employ.

Than quickly changed the subject. "Most of the guys you're gonna meet will have a few talents, but the majority are out of shape, over the hill, and has-beens."

Daron knew that his experiences in being inducted into service were vastly different than Than's. Than didn't like to talk about it much, and Daron had only been able to glean hints from his mind. Hints were all that he needed.

Daron would not push the issue, he knew what the Dark Lord was capable of, but he felt that he had nothing to fear from him. They were on the same side. Aside from that, at their one and only meeting, it took very little to persuade Vader that Daron was a good fit for the Empire, and Vader had seemed to take a genuine interest in him. After their formalities were complete, which Daron knew in many ways was an unofficial job interview, Vader discussed at length Daron's future goals and had a bit of input of his own to share.

Than, reluctant to speak of his experiences with Vader, was speaking about Clarvin Da'anty. Da'anty is a very public figure for the Empire, whose talents are used weekly to make daytime holos whose sole aim is to make women cry tears of emotion and make the Empire look good.

Daron knew the story, in fact he'd seen the show a few times. Da'anty was a capable healer from some obscure tradition, and as a softspoken and somewhat effeminate human male, he was quite adept at putting on a show.

He listened as Than told the stories (which were all pretty much the same story) about how Da'anty would showcase an old hero, usually a veteran, a teacher, or servant who is now very old, and would showcase their family and hardships as well. Audiences would shed tears as they feel emotional heartaches for those portrayed, and then near the end Da'anty would not just heal ailments, but would restore their vitality to levels that they hadn't experienced in decades.

Daron kept quiet as he listened to Than's excitement. He was familiar with the idea that this "gift" he gave would last only for a few months, and he wasn't entirely sure if a study had ever been done to see if there were delayed ill effects for such actions. Daron liked to think that if an eighty year old body was to act as if it were in its thirties for a few months, it must take some kind of toll. That of course was not the point of the show however, people seemed to enjoy feeling good as they watched these heros lives changed as good things are done for them. Of course the Empire always does something nice too such as pay off debts, or cover a grandchild's tuition at an academy.

Daron though it was a bit odd that such a disproportional number of force users seemed to be these one trick ponies than were actually skilled, talented, and disciplined such as himself, but as long as they did performed great works for the Empire they were part of the same team. Daron and Than of course, were a part of the minority whose role actually had some part in defending the Empire. It will be interesting in the next few days to be in the same room as these individuals.

Daron only feigned interest as Than discussed the agenda over the next couple of days and the interactions they would keep. For some reason related to public relations, seemingly all force sensitive agents were being rounded up on Telos, and after their assignments are complete there is supposed to be some sort of ceremony for them all to attend. That would be historical, as it had been years since that many had been in one place at one time. Daron suspected that it would be a long time until there will be an opportunity to happen again.

Than continued with his stories until they had finished their meals. Today was the only day that they had flexible time in their schedule to be on their own.

Than, Daron knew, was going to use this time to talk to his children over the holoweb.

That would take a while though, because Than has two separate families in different galaxies who know nothing about each other. That was just one of Than's quirks though, and people rarely question heros.

Daron did not judge him too harshly, although he was not exactly faithful to either wife, he still did a good job of seeing each of them a few times a year, and both were well taken care of financially. How Than managed to keep them secret from each other, and to what extent their children have been registered in the Imperial databases was unknown to Daron.

Daron did not dwell too much on this though, because he had his own agenda for the day. One thing that he was looking forward to was retrieving the copy of Mack's lessons that he had cleverly hidden before turning himself in, and the other in which he was greatly looking forward to was surprising his parents. He had been allowed to spend a few days with them before beginning his training with Than, but he hadn't seen them in person since.

This would be a very exciting trip!

**Ch**

Sylvia hurried to Jar Jar's estate.

After having been called out of instructing students in the middle of the day and told there was an emergency, she feared the worst. Her mind was racing as she hurried towards the estate.

Sylvia tried her best to use her force focus to gain some perspective on what the situation was, but could sense nothing out of place. More frustrating to her than that, is that coming to the estate felt very much like coming home, which was very unhelpful to her considering that there is likely some sort of danger, otherwise she would not have been called.

What was actually mere seconds felt like forever as she waited to be let inside.

Jar Jar himself greeted her at the door. She felt his physical pain immediately, he was having a very bad day. Only a fraction of her concentration was needed to ascertain that today's ailments were greatly exacerbated by stress. He welcomed her inside and brought her hurriedly through very familiar rooms toward his study. He began to speak, but there was just too little time for him to get far enough along in his story to prepare her for what she was about to see. What unfolded next was the very last thing she'd expected.

She told herself that she would not cry as she ran with open arms and watery eyes towards her parents.

**Ch **

Daron loaded equipment into his rented speeder "I'd almost forgotten that I grabbed those!"

Although the day he packed seemed so long ago, he really had almost forgotten that he had begun work on a lightsaber so many months back. Such events seemed so small to him after all that he has experienced since leaving Telos.

That part of his life seemed so far off right now, but he recalled his desire to build his own lightsaber, and that he had assembled many of the mechanical components already, but had been struggling with the alignment of the synthetic crystals which he now held in his hand.

"Maybe I'll give it another try sometime," he said to himself casually as he loaded his most precious cargo; the astromech droid computers with Mack's esoteric teachings.

Daron enjoyed the familiar drive to his parent's estate, but was unpleasantly surprised when he got there. Apparently they have gone on some kind of extended trip.

"I can't really expect them to just wait at home for me to grace them with a surprise visit," he concluded as he weighed his options for the rest of the day.

There were plenty of friends on Telos that he could spend the day with, including Clemencia, but his unfinished lightsaber kept coming to mind.

The Empire issued Daron a lightsaber that was very similar to the one that Mack had him train with, which Than told him used to belong to some nameless Jedi, and that was how they viewed such weapons. They were tools, no different than a blaster, and although slightly more difficult to replace, their employer was the only entity in the universe capable of doing so, therefore there was no real need to feel a connection to it.

Daron felt a connection here. He hadn't thought much about Mack's telling of how you can feel a bond with your own lightsaber, and being in the house that he grew up in empowered him even more as he thought about what he could accomplish.

"It's a shame I didn't come here late last night, I would've seen my parents this trip, but oh the look on Than's face when I brandish my own weapon," he thought, quickly forgetting his disappointment over his parents and excitedly hurrying towards what used to be his bedroom.

"I know that I can get this done today, because I know the one thing that Mack failed to teach me… the very thing that makes me powerful now. Ambition."

**Ch**

The tears, the embracing, the regaining of composure and then losing it again were all events that seemed to whir by in a blur.

Not that Sylvia would ever blame anyone for showing emotion, it was the first time she'd ever seen her father cry.

Jar Jar gave the family time to antiquate, and then decided that they should get on with business once everyone was dry-eyed and even keel.

"Gilenn and Yulsie arriven here unexpectedly less than an hour ago, but thisa reason for ista meeting is not a pleasant one, he stated sadly, as he motioned for Sylvia to take a seat.

Sylvia sat close to her father, as she listened to Jar Jar explain that although Mack had a long list of unscrupulous contacts for doing various types of business with, he had only a very short list of close associates who he absolutely trusted, that were able to safeguard secrets. When Mack met his end on Telos, those contacts became Jar Jars.

Jar Jar admitted that he had met Gilenn and Yulsie years ago, and apparently something highly illegal that they coordinated with Mack is what made it possible to build and maintain this gargantuan facility.

Sylvia took a moment to process what that meant. Her parents had kept secret for her entire life that they were criminals. Much of the work that her father did when he'd stay up on those late nights were ways to funnel money to secretly get resources for this place.

"So just to be sure before we get to business, are all of the secrets on the table now," Sylvia asked as matter of fact as she could, surprised at the fact that she was not welling up with tears at the situation.

Gilenn put his arm around Yulsie and spoke first, "our love for each other has always been real. In fact, we were already married to each other before we adopted you and your brother."

Yulsie continued, "honey, we both had associations with the Jedi, and the names that you and the rest of the galaxy have always known us by are aliases, but our family and our love for you is very real."

Gilenn went on, "due to the circumstances involved in your adoption, we always knew what you and your brother are capable of, and we will absolutely fill you in on the unusual details, but we need to tell you that our presence here is somewhat of a permanent thing now. Our cover on Telos has become somewhat compromised."

"What!?" Sylvia drew in air and stared awkwardly at her adoptive parents.

"Do you remember Professor Ainslee, dear?" Yulsie interjected. "He is actually another of Mack and our associates who had been living under an alias, and unfortunately somebody recognized him as who he used to be, which has put us at risk."

"And you already had one strike against you having fugitives as children," Sylvia said looking down.

"No Sylvia, you cannot think that way," Gilenn told her. "Our identities endured the scrutiny of the investigators. There's a chance that we could endure this as well, but it was always Mack's idea that if one of us is caught, then the rest go into hiding. This is not in any way your fault, but on a brighter note, at least we are together again."

"What's going to happen to the professor," Sylvia asked quietly.

Jar Jar fielded this one. "Deesa Empire gonna be treatin 'im ver very harshly mesa thinks."

"Are we in danger here" Sylvia asked in concern. "Does Ainslee know about this place?"

"He would never betray us, no matter what the Empire does to him," Yulsie exclaimed.

"The Empire may have its ways of getting information from people," Gilenn stated, "but their methods will likely kill him before they can gain anything useful."

That was all that Sylvia needed to hear. "I'm going to Telos. Alone. I'll know what to do when I get there. I love you but I just don't deal well with _likely_."

**Ch.**

"Clarvin Da'anty is lame." Daron held his gaze with Than.

"You're just jealous because he's great with people and just as good in front of the holorecorder," Than chuckled.

"No, I don't like him because he's such a fake! And what's the deal with that little red headed girl that follows him around. I know that she shares in our talents, but he is hardly what I would choose as a mentor. He doesn't know poo-doo about the force, he's hardly a stage pony with that weird healing thing that he does! I cannot think of anything that he does, which modern medicine and a few months worth of narcotics could do." Daron stood a little bit straighter after letting that rant out.

"What has gotten into you lately? You did fine in your public relations tasks, why does he bother you so much? And since when are you worried about someone else's talents? We're all on the same team here," Than exclaimed.

"Than, you have been my mentor since I began Imperial service, and after the last few days of interacting with the other gifted individuals I realize just how lucky I am. Don't let this go to your head, but you are probably the most powerful, and one of the few with any real talent. Which sort of makes the rest seem disappointing," Daron admitted.

"Daron, if we are talking about talent you already had more than enough of that before we started together. My job has been easy, all I've really needed to teach you are Imperial procedures. In my opinion you are ready to do this job on your own. Now, I honestly do like Da'anty, and we might never agree on that, but your point is a valid one. When you take a good look at the folks that the Empire has managed to gather, you and I do seem to be amongst the upper crust," Than admitted, while leaving out the obvious exceptions that they left unmentioned.

"I guess we'll go crazy if we try and think about it too much," Daron told his mentor. "I probably ought to relax some and just do my job."

"Ambition is rewarded in our line of work, but don't ever get too big for your own good. Just take it all in stride, know who your friends are, and get a sense of who to stay away from. I'm looking forward to getting away from this trip. There are too many of us here, and I just don't see any good coming from that," Than said with a lighthearted tone.

"Well, our work is technically done, and I've already gotten as much from being home again as I needed to. We do have that mandatory banquet tonight, but after that I cannot see any reason for us not to leave and return to our assignments," Daron told his mentor.

Than sighed audibly, "a gathering of the few force talented individuals in one place at one time. I bet the Empire wants to take a picture."

**Ch.**

Than and Daron smiled beautifully for the group picture. The banquet hall was decorated with the finest and most exquisite pieces of Telos high fashion, and the food was so good that Than took the time to get the name of the chef. Daron, who usually didn't care about such things, made it a point to take the name as well.

Daron being no stranger to forced social environments made pleasantries and small talk with almost everyone present. Finally, he made his way back to Than.

"Do you feel that," Daron asked. I'm not fully certain, but I believe that Lord Vader is on his way.

That was news to Than, who immediately seemed agitated.

"I suppose that makes sense that he would show up in person," Daron said naively, "after all, he is our boss' boss, which means everyone in this room reports to him in one way or another. Too bad he missed the group picture."

Than never had a chance to voice his concern. At that moment, the attendees were ordered to take their seats.

Daron's reserved seat was directly across from Than's, and he noticed the change in him. In fact, as he looked around the room, he saw that he was one of the only people that were genuinely excited to see the Dark Lord.

The lights dimmed, and a life sized holotransmission of the Emperor appeared in the middle of the room. Daron smiled widely.

**Ch.**

Daron wasn't smiling for long. Within moments, all attendees knew that the Emperor was not happy with them.

The words coming from the menacing holo in the room were slow and deliberate. "You are all gathered here today because of your failures. Many of you are confident in your positions, you should not be. Make no mistake, every single one of you is in danger."

The room was tense as all attendees sat motionless, with their eyes fixated on the image of their Emperor. "We have graciously made arrangements for some of you to be retrained. Properly. Sadly for many of you, my Empire does not have room for stagnant filth, and that's what you have become. Prove yourself as one of those worthy of the gift that I am willing to extend out of generosity. Every one of you is paired with your competition. Look across from where you are seated, and you will see who stands in your way."

The holo faded, and Daron knew exactly what was next. He had to fight.

**Ch.**

Requisitioning a functional interstellar transport vehicle was easy. Convincing everyone that going after Ainslee was a good idea turned out to be far easier than expected as well. The hard part, however, in which Sylvia had to compromise, was the idea of going alone.

Sylvia performed the preflight checklist exactly as she had been taught by Renton. In their time together, amongst the many leisurely activities they'd enjoyed together, they had found time to share skills.

Renton, as it had turned out, was very well trained as a soldier, and was arguably the best with a blaster rifle in the entire compound. He would be piloting their small shuttle for this mission, and playing as equal of a role as Sylvia in the rescue of the professor.

"I'm glad that you are coming along," Sylvia said with a smile as she turned over the pilot's chair to her significant other.

"I wasn't about to let you go alone, even if you were almost able to convince my father and your parents that a solo mission would be best. Besides, you'd need a pilot," he stated jovially.

"These things practically fly themselves nowadays," she retorted, which wasn't exactly untrue. "You are one of the few that I am not worried will slow me down when we get there!"

Renton knew that was a compliment. His next retort made Sylvia blush a little bit, and a few minutes later they were leaving orbit and making preparations for lightspeed.

Renton had decided to bring his rebuilt R2 series astromech named BoomBoom along just in case it would be handy, and the time it had saved by interfacing with the Navicomputer and plotting a course to Telos had proved its worth before they'd even begun the trip.

Renton was very happy with his choice.

Sylvia and Renton arrived on Telos ready for anything. She knew the layout very well, they had rehearsed their mission as a sort of _thought experiment _dozens of times over, with as many scenarios as they could think of during their trip.

They did not plan to fight, but just in case Renton had a collapsible blaster rifle which he was able to conceal very well, and Sylvia carried a concealed lightsaber. Both were dressed in attire that would have them both blend as either students at the academy, or a part of the privileged Telosian hipster crowd. Having an R2 unit following them would look somewhat unusual based on their surroundings, but not so out of place that they would draw undue attention.

Although both were highly skilled and very well trained, this was both Sylvia and Renton's first field mission. Almost nothing went according to plan.

**Ch **

Daron did not hesitate, which arguably saved his life. In one swift motion he drew his lightsaber from its holstered position and with a _snap hiss_ extended it straight out to his right. Clarvin Da'anty's limp body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. That felt good.

Acting mostly on instinct, Daron made immediate eye contact with the little red headed girl. "You need to kill a master to live, I've killed yours, now you will help me with mine or die here today!" Daron didn't exactly know if his words were true, but he didn't have time to care. What he did know is that he could not beat Than in a one on one fair fight.

The entire room erupted into chaos, as long time friends and colleagues began to fight to the death. Daron had reacted so fast, that Da'anty was dead, and a small statured ally gained, before most people had a chance to even process what the Emperor had just told them to do. That advantage would have been enough to guarantee survival against many of the competitors in the room. But not against Than.

Than had Daron on the defensive before he even had a chance to begin a single of his own offensive techniques. Than could have launched himself over the table, or cut it out of his way, but somehow he simply bashed through it as if it were not even there, sending splinters in Daron's direction while chopping with wild strength and speed at Daron with his lightsaber.

Daron was on his heels almost immediately, backing and parrying as best as he could. What was worse is that it appeared the little red headed girl had abandoned him. He could not see her, and what minimal force awareness he could spare towards the task of locating her in the crowd yielded no results. He was alone locked in mortal combat with an overstrength opponent, and he did not see any way towards victory.

Than's eyes betrayed what he was doing. It was a barbaric rage. Daron knew when he looked like that, he was channeling his thoughts of some victim that was either real or perceived, and he would be an onstoppable onslaught of fury. When Than put himself in that fight or flight situation by sheer force of will, he was more dangerous than an animal backed into a corner.

Barely deflecting his strikes in time, Daron looked for mistakes that he could capitalize on. Mistakes were certainly there, but Daron just could not gain any advantage. He thought momentarily of his sister, and how she would slice him like he were an overpriced seafood delicacy, by effortlessly redirecting the angle of his powerful attacks, just enough to artfully sneak the tip of her blade someplace vital. "Too bad that wasn't my gift," Daron excepted as his weary arms began to slow. It was just a matter of time now.

Just then something changed. Than was bleeding from just under his right armpit, and a small piece of metal protruded. As Than raised his lightsaber for a powerful overhand strike, a small knife immediately appeared in an exposed rib, and another in the biceps of his right arm. Than angrily half turned in the direction that they seemed to have come from, but no one was there. Daron used this opportunity to leap beyond a freshly fallen combatant, putting a few extra steps between him and his attacker.

Than closed the distance and trampled the body as if it weren't even there, and Daron was in danger again. Than was bleeding from where the knives were still sticking deep, but he fought on as if they weren't even there.

Daron considered that they may have come from the little red headed girl, although if she were somewhere in this room, she has to be invisible. And she would have to do much better than three small daggers that barely slowed their athletic opponent.

**Ch**

Sylvia and Renton readied themselves for BoomBoom to open the cargo door of the police outpost where Ainslee was said to be. It was taking him far too long.

The plan was simple. Using criminal contacts that were once on Mack's payroll, and still on retainer for one-time jobs as long as the price happens to be right, they were to initiate a program that was developed by their slicers that would allow a droid to communicate with automated portions of Imperial systems.

BoomBoom was simultaneously telling the central computer that a shipment was ready to be received by labor droids inside to get it to open the bay doors, and quietly scanning files to determine where the professor is being held. Once inside and in possession of Ainslee's location, he will send hundreds of millions of conflicting commands, which will corrupt the main computer and cause it to reboot. Not exactly a virus by definition, but as the slicer explained, that is why it will work. They will then have exactly seven minutes to sneak to that location, and extract their target before the systems come back online.

If all goes as planned, the station will still have power, it will just be without centralized communication and the technological response abilities that everyone inside has grown to rely on. Very few Imperials are trained to respond in such a situation, as the priority protocol is usually to get the computer up and running.

"It really is taking a while," Sylvia said nervously as she kept watch to see if they've been noticed.

"We weren't really told how long it would take, but if BoomBoom doesn't get us in soon, we will quickly become conspicuous," Renton agreed.

"I have a bad feeling about this. BoomBoom, if you have the professor's location, please show it on your display screen," Sylvia ordered.

Still in contact with the central computer, the droid chirped as the location and status appeared on his display.

"The professor is in the crematorium and has already been processed," Renton said grimly.

"Now what?" Sylvia asked as the bay door opened and alarms began to sound.

**Ch**

Frustrating. That's what this mission has become. Sylvia did her best to redirect blaster fire as Renton laid down covering fire to ease their retreat. Right now it was only a few workers who looked like technicians that were firing on them with pistols, but they had the home field advantage and very soon this place would be crawling with stormtroopers.

What is worse is that BoomBoom had been hit and was now immobile.

"We have to go back!" Renton suddenly realized.

"We are getting out of here," Sylvia yelled back, ducking under blaster fire out of reflex, not realizing that allowed it too close to Renton, who immediately dropped prone.

"No, back towards the dock, we messed up… big!" He yelled as he sharpshooted a control panel visible from his vantage point, in a vain effort to close the doors, and buy them a moment of temporary safety.

"At least one thing went right," he said as he hopped to his feat and ran towards a barely functional BoomBoom.

Incredulous that the tactic actually worked, Sylvia caught up and took a knee next to the motionless droid.

"He's trying to tell us something," she stated as she gestured towards his display screen, which was displaying information faster than human eyes could possibly read.

"Stand back," Renton instructed as he produced a gungan boomer from a pouch.

Blaster fire erupted once more, and the then distracted Renton did the impossible. He missed BoomBoom from only a few feet away.

Both immediately ran for the nearest cover, grateful to have found a large duracrete dumpster to shield them temporarily.

Sylvia had just caught on to the real danger at that moment. "BoomBoom plotted our hyperspace route!"

She had remembered that the ship's Navicomputer was outfitted with software that contained complex algorithms designed to automatically delete past routes, and replace them with records of fake ones from a pre-generated list.

BoomBoom had no such software.

"Right! And if the Imperials get him they can access his memory core and we'll have led them right to the Colony," he shouted, as he switched his blaster to rapid fire.

Knowing that he was likely to drain his power pack, he exhaled as he squeezed the trigger, and fired as many shots into the downed droid as he could.

"We cannot keep this up much longer," he exclaimed as he swapped power packs and went back to targeting the approaching troopers.

Occasionally Renton could spare an extra shot or two back towards the droid, but he never got either the satisfying explosion or electrical discharge that would tell him there is no chance of memory retrieval.

Sylvia felt useless, trying her best to concentrate on moving the droid to them, but with no success.

"I can't," she exhaled exhaustedly, "it's too heavy, or too far away."

"We have to leave," he yelled just a little bit too frantically.

Sylvia made a decision. "I was wrong."

"We need to make for that sewer grate!" Renton gestured as he fired back at the fast approaching squad.

"No," Sylvia said calmly, "_you_ need to head for the sewer grate. You're a fantastic swimmer, get back to the ship."

"No way am I leaving without you," Renton protested angrily.

"No you see," Sylvia explained, "that's where I was wrong. You _are _holding me back."

**Ch**

Daron continued to fight to stay alive for as long as he could. He noticed that many participants had resolved their battles, and began to step off to the side, although there were still a few pairs of combatants left fighting. Still no sign of the little red headed girl.

It became clear to Daron that he needed to do something different, and fast! If he could get enough distance he might be able to try a force based offensive, but if he tried it with his attacker so close he would be cut in half. Occasionally he would try and distance himself with a well- timed push of the force, but Than simply never gave as much ground as Daron expected.

"He doesn't even slow," Daron thought to himself as he had an _aha! _moment. "It's a pure gimmick, but it just might work!"

Daron prepared to draw his second lightsaber, the one that he had constructed from its concealed location under his vest. "I am not any better with two blades than I am with one, but in his rage, Than might not expect it or be able to react in time."

Too perfect! Daron could see the opening before it even appeared. As Than swung powerfully with the tip of his blade almost grazing his nose, Daron switched his grip to one hand and used his lightsaber to guide Than's off to the side, as he now freed hand disappeared under his vest, ready to deftly strike his second saber towards Than's now exposed chest as it ignites.

"It's gone!" Panic washed over Daron as he realized his second weapon was not where it should be. "How, when?"

Daron didn't have time to think about it. He had over-exposed himself and Than was about to make him pay for that mistake.

A smarter fighter would have redirected the attack and finished Daron right there. Sylvia or Mack certainly would have. Daron did not like the crushing elbow that broke his nose, but at the moment it was better than being dead. Than chose to lead with his closest elbow and follow quickly with a two handed horizontal swing intended to cut him in half. Daron barely managed to snap his lightsaber back into a defensive position and get both hands on the grip, but the shear intensity of the swing overwhelmed his defense, and he was hit by both blades.

Daron took a quick inventory of his injuries. That attack could have killed him, it was only by luck that his sloppy and off balance stance had turned the cuts from both his and his attackers saber into one graze, and one deeper cut, that did not seem vital.

His mind whirling with last ditch effort strategies, he spotted his young red haired ally standing at an oblique angle about fifteen feet from Than's back.

He did not know what she was up to, but she stood with square hips and shoulders. She wanted Daron to see her.

With no time to enjoy the revelation, he readied to block yet another powerful strike that he'd be too slow to stay clear of. It was at that moment that he heard a loud popping sound as the small knives that were still sticking out of Than shuddered slightly in place.

Daron smiled, as he recognized what had just happened and realized that he might actually live. At least long enough to beat Than that is. He had earlier become keenly aware that Lord Vader was in the room, watching all combatants, comfortably walking through the room while showing no expression of either distaste of approval from his onyx mask.

Daron had remembered now seeing knives like those in museum displays, they were an assassin's tool. Whether his seeming ally could have activated them at any time, or if she had to wait until they had to work themselves into the perfect position, possibly with her added help, he guessed she would never admit.

Regardless, Than had a triple dose of whatever poison she had chosen to load, and was too preoccupied to realize it.

Daron's answer came quickly. Than still came at him like a bantha, but struggled to raise his dominant arm. Paralytic poison.

The answer as to where his other lightsaber went was quickly revealed as well. It would appear that the little red headed girl had really believed his claim that she needed to kill a master in order to survive, he thought briefly as she ran full speed towards Than, thrusting Daron's saber straight through his shoulder blades.

In his barbaric rage, Than turned around with a powerful strike aimed at the girl, only injuring himself further as he did so, until in one upward stroke as he stepped to a forward angle, Daron severed the arm and Than's head.

It was over.

**Ch.**

Daron stood in line facing out as instructed, with eyes locked forward. Darth Vader walked up and down the line wordlessly.

Vader had to be the only relaxed individual in the room, the tension rolled off of everyone in waves. Apart from the bodies of slain combatants that still littered the room, there was one other thing weighing on Daron's mind. Everyone left in the room had something in common. They had all murdered a peer today, simply because their Emperor told them to.

Vader calmly called out the names of three individuals to approach him. When they arrived as instructed, he struck all three down with one massive swipe of his lightsaber, which was deactivated and back on his belt before they had even hit the floor.

Nobody moved a muscle.

Daron hadn't forgotten about the Emperor, but he hadn't exactly kept track of him either. He was taken aback when he heard the slow deliberate speech unexpectedly resume from the lifesize holo, which may or may not have been there the whole time. He realized that the Emperor was not addressing them, rather was addressing someone that they could not see, but clearly the Emperor wanted them to hear this.

"We have always been vigilant in preparations for factions of rogue Jedi to cause fear and discord amongst the Empire by use of fear and terror. Today we both celebrate a triumph, and we mourn the loss of those who bravely gave the ultimate sacrifice in protecting you. While many talented and irreplaceable individuals had been doing humanitarian work on Telos, what elements remain of the religious zealots were plotting a campaign of evil against them.

My fellow citizens, I gladly rejoice as I tell you that they have failed, but it has come at a great cost. We must remain on watch and double our security efforts. While this might result in a few temporary delays and perceived infringements on rights and civil liberties, compliance is mandated. Fellow patriots, I don't need to tell you this, I know that you are with us and such trivialness is hardly worthy of mention, but I need you to be watchguards when you hear unpatriotic speech. Our enemies promote disharmony, yet all we want is peace. I now present to you, Mas Amedda, who will fill you in on details of the unfortunate occurance."

Daron knew without a doubt that this announcement to the media was for them to hear and immediately fall in line. They would all be in agreement, and unsurprisingly, some of the weaker ones would probably come to believe it someday, despite their actual involvement.

Vader and the menacing holo walked down the line and had something to quietly say to everybody. Daron did not dare turn his head to see who it was that crumbled lifelessly to the floor on their turn. Apparently the Emperor did not approve of something.

As the two moved on, Daron began to wonder if he would be okay when they got to him. As luck would have it, he just happened to be standing next to the red headed girl, and it looks like they were getting to her very soon. And then he would be next.

**Ch**

Sylvia put her hands up and gestured surrender. "Renton ought to be in the clear by now," she thought to herself as she inched forward with her hands in the air.

"I give up, I give up… he was holding me against my will! I think he's hiding in the waste dumpster!" she bluffed as she slowly walked forward with her hands in the air.

Sylvia was taking a huge risk. As the troopers shouted for her to lay flat on the ground as they trained their rifles on her, she continued inch forward, playing the _panicked girl_ card as best as she could, taking advantage of their inexperience.

"They look intimidating in that armor," she reminded herself, "but these are teenagers likely on their first assignment guarding a loading dock that nobody in their right mind would ever attack."

She'd played them perfectly, it was as if none of the workers from inside communicated that merely minutes ago she was wielding a lightsaber.

The entire squad of stormtroopers had closed in around her, and they took positions that they probably had trained in basic infantry and never implemented since. The same could be said about her of course, but Mack had prepared her specifically for situations like this.

She felt a twinge of regret for what she was about to have to do, but it was impossible to get the image of the innocent podlings whose lives would be in danger if she didn't.

As Sylvia kneeled and put her hands over her head to be put into binder cuffs, her lightsaber appeared in her hand and she sprang into action.

Her first slice cut the droid in two. Her second was against the nearest trooper, and third against the droid again.

Her aerial maneuvers strategically kept herself out of the line of fire. As she'd dance, most troopers would find their target blocked by the positioning of their comrades.

It would not exactly be accurate to say that she would strike a trooper, then the droid, then a trooper again, and repeat… but to the onlookers inside who were too stunned to act, they would swear that is exactly what they saw.

Except of course, _while flying_ would be a part of many of their inaccurate descriptions, of which no one would ever convince them otherwise.

Sylvia knew the dangers of being overwhelmed by blasterfire. She was also at her most comfortable in close ranged combat. As long as she kept moving, and her opponents were not too well trained in coordinating fire and movements up close, she felt as though she could move through any corridor inside.

She had only moments to decide what was next. "We didn't travel across the galaxy just to split the party and destroy BoomBoom. We've intelligence that Ainslee has expired, which means we can go home now confident that there is no threat to our location being found out."

"But do I trust that Ainslee is really dead," she asked herself as she finished off the last trooper and peered inside the still open bay doors to the facility.

**Ch**

Things had just gone very well.

For the little red headed girl, that is.

Daron did not even need to try and listen in and watch, in order to determine that the Emperor was _very_ interested in this girl. What plans he had in store for her Daron did not want to guess.

Now it was his turn.

Vader spoke not to Daron, but to the holo, "this one is nothing too impressive, he is very lucky to still be standing, and he will require vast improvement to survive the next time we do this."

"Next time?" Daron almost said in his mind before remembering to focus on keeping it quiet. He remembered Mack telling him that these very two had interacted with the Jedi almost every day for years while keeping their true secrets hidden. Daron would reveal his true thoughts only if needed.

"Do we have a use for this one," the holo asked Vader casually, making no attempt to hide the implications of what a "no" answer would mean.

Vader was silent for a moment. "We can give him to Tremayne. If he doesn't prove himself, he will be disposed of. "

No words were ever spoken to Daron. Although not exactly happy with how the exchange had gone, he was very happy that they had moved on to the next person in line.

Still keeping his mind hidden, he began to seriously reconsider the choices he has made.

**Ch**

Sylvia and Renton didn't speak very much during the first few hours of the long trip back to their underwater home.

Finally unwilling to endure an awkward trip of small talk and avoidance, Sylvia began. "I know that I wasn't exactly polite back there, but I needed you to understand that I had an idea, and I had to act on it immediately. Unfortunately you were not a part of that plan."

"It's okay," he said quietly.

"This might sound awful of me," Sylvia continued, "but I honestly cannot apologize for doing it. I might do it again."

"I know, and it's okay," he said absently.

After a few moments of looking at each other in silence Sylvia spoke again, concerned. "Are we okay?"

Renton reached out and put both of her hands in his. "Sweetheart, there is mission _us, _and relationship _us. _We have never defined it, but I have always known it. We are fine."

Sylvia managed a smile, "I think so too."

After a few hours of speaking of other topics, Sylvia briefly brought it back up. "Remember that time I said that I wouldn't apologize?"

Renton smiled too as she put his arm around her. "Yes."

"I'm sorry," she said as she slid in a little bit closer.

**Ch **

Daron packed his belongings. His motivation level was somewhat less after the event, and his mind repeated several options.

"I could leave. Right now and never look back."

"No," he answered his own thoughts, "I will finish what I began. I will double my efforts and grow in strength. I will grow faster as I work for this Empire, but I will no longer feel that I am a part of that which is willing to turn on me at any moment."

"I must be ready to turn on it at any time."

As Daron packed his bags, he felt thankful for one thing.

Tremayne was in charge of all Inquisitors, but he was not the most impressive specimen. "I ought to be able to keep my thoughts from him, and I suspect that I can eventually surpass him without too much trouble."

Daron put his issued lightsaber into his holster. "That girl turned out to be useful enough. I'm not overly happy that I didn't get my constructed lightsaber back, but if anyone else would get to use it, I'm glad it's her…"

His mind drifted quickly to his sister. "I miss her, and it's disturbing that I don't think of her, or my family as often as I used to."

"I vowed to keep looking for her, and now with my position as Inquisitor, and no longer having Than keeping an eye on me, I will resume my quest with renewed enthusiasm."

Daron thought briefly about Than, and then dismissed it. "That man may have been strong in some ways, but he was weak. I will waste no more time dwelling on him."

Daron's comlink sounded. He had been expecting his new official orders to arrive.

"That's pretty fast," he said aloud as he activated his screen.

Indeed it was, it had all of the proper Imperial credentials, but it was not the orders that he expected.

There would be no reporting to Tremayne, and his title would not be Inquisitor as he had been expecting.

A chill ran down Daron's spine.

The description was _special tasks_, and he would report only to Lord Vader. There was a very brief message of where to report and a packing list, but nothing more.

~_FIN_~

(No just kidding, I will probably write one last "feel good" chapter and then an epilogue with ties into book two, if I ever do one).


End file.
